Competition Isn't A Thing, It's Everything
by lalalyds2
Summary: Beca's not an easily flustered girl. She's distant and moody and totally chill... until she's around a certain blonde German. You're supposed to insult the enemy by calling her gorgeous, right?
1. Competition Is Everything

_Hi everybody! This is my first Kommissar fic, so I will get better in time. Enjoy. :)_

* * *

It's the after party at Worlds, and Beca swears Fat Amy is trying to kill her from embarrassment. She just had to tease Pieter about losing Worlds, and of course he had to challenge her on the dance floor. And of course that tall drink of water called Kommissar just had to accompany him, along with the rest of Das Sound Machine.

So many levels of unfair.

* * *

So there's a dance off, and Beca's swaying in the background. Swaying counts as dancing, right? Maybe not, but Fat Amy's dancing enough for the whole group. Popping and locking, or some kind of enthusiastic equivalent. Either way, Beca's too buzzed to care.

High off of victory and tipsy from the open bar's strong alcohols, Beca simply nods her head to the pounding beat and watches the competition going on. Well, it's really just Amy and Pieter that are competing, everybody else is just dancing for the fun of it. Kommissar might be dancing to kill.

Beca can't help noticing how the motion of Kommissar's hips is positively wicked _._ Her gyrating is smooth and dangerous and _oh_ , what a way to go. If Kommissar's dance skills really are lethal, Beca can't imagine a better last image.

She catches her self thinking that, chokes, and coughs like an idiot.

Heads turn.

Including Kommissar's.

Beca prays to the a cappella gods to let the dance floor swallow her.

She just keeps coughing.

Figures.

If she doesn't die from the humiliation, her burning cheeks might melt the rest of her.

She escapes to the bar. Oh sweet, sweet alcohol. She hopes to avoid everyone else till tomorrow, when the moment has been forgotten in a blurred mess of drunken memories. She has no such luck.

* * *

"Is the kleine maus okay?" A sultry voice asks from behind the vodka-downing Bella, she nearly chokes again.

"I'm fine." She turns, her arms crossing to give her more personal space from the towering blonde. It works only minimally.

"Good. I would hate for the leader of the Bella's to, ah how do they say, _croak_ on the dance floor the night of their victory. It would seem rather suspicious, no?"

"I'm _fine."_ Beca says, blushing an even deeper shade of red. She didn't think that was possible at this point.

"Don't you have a dance floor to dominate?" She blurts out, flustered. Kommissar shrugs, an amused little smirk lifting her cheekbones even higher.

Beca tries not to stare at them.

She fails.

"So you _were_ staring at me. I knew it. Pieter owes me."

"I was not! Besides, you're so tall, it's impossible to _not_ look at you!"

"Feisty maus, always so tense."

"I'm not tense- and stop calling me a _maus,_ I'mnot a mouse. I'ma-a... Something else. I'm something else. Probably drunk." She mutters that last bit under her breath. Kommissar hears it anyway and chuckles.

"And why should I not call you that? You are so small, you can barely handle any alcohol."

"I bet I can drink more than you." Beca snaps, emboldened by pride and the two shots of vodka already warming her stomach. Kommissar quirks one immaculate eyebrow.

"You're challenging me. Really?"

"Really, really." She winces at that, her eyes squeezing as she internally berates herself for such an elementary grade taunt.

"Fine. Let's hope you can hold your liquor, häschen, as I'm not in the mood to be puked upon."

"Did you just call me... a bunny rabbit?" Beca asks, confused. Kommissar smirks, her painted lips red and glistening under the flashing lights.

"You said not to call you a maus." Beca narrows her eyes, her fingers snapping distractedly at the bartender for a line of shots, her free finger points and shakes in Kommissar's face sloppily.

"If I win, you stop it with the names." Kommissar's flashes her teeth, almost a smile but not quite.

"Fine. But you won't win."

* * *

It's getting harder for Beca to see straight, the four empty shot glasses spinning in some kind of haphazard circle.

"I think you've had enough to drink, kleine maus." Kommissar says. A neat row of eight empty glasses sitting in front of her, her hair's not even slightly mussed.

"I thought you were gonna stop calling me that." Beca says, her words slurring together.

"You didn't win." Kommissar states dryly. A light and happy sound escapes from the brunette's lips, it's a giggle.

"Not fair." She mumbles. "I had two shots before this. And something else too. Dunno what..."

"That's still only six shots. You lost."

"Well _you're_ inhumanly gorgeous, so... Yeah."

"Alberne maus." Kommissar says, though a smile softens her face.

"You know, I know some German. You can't keep calling me a bunny or a mouse or silly. I'll know it." Beca says, her finger bopping Kommissar on the nose.

Well, at least that's where she aims.

She ends up poking her in the cheek instead.

It's really soft.

"Then I'll be sure it switch it up. Now come, you need some sleep." Kommissar pulls Beca up from her chair and half leads, half drags her to the hotel they're both staying at.

"You don't even know where my room is." Beca says, trying to match Kommissar's long legged gait. She stumbles and almost falls, but she's saved by Kommissar's steady arm around her waist. Her hand is hot and gentle against Beca's hip.

"Then tell me your room number."

"Slow down there, buy a girl a drink first." Beca mumbles, giggling again.

"You've had too many already." Kommissar says, not understanding the flirtatious meaning.

"Never mind. I have a boyfriend, you know." Beca says, not knowing whether she's reminding Kommissar or herself.

* * *

And then she's safely in her room, Kommissar hovering at her door.

"Go to sleep, silly maus. Do not do anything foolish." She turns to leave, but Beca calls after her.

"Hey, you never said what you wanted if you won." She stops, turning back to the yawning Bella with a smirk.

"I'll tell you when you're sober." She says, winking mischievously.

"Ok. Sure. I'll do it then." Kommissar starts to walk away again, only to be called back.

"What's your real name? You can't really be named the commissioner."

"You'll have to beat me at something before I ever tell you. So, sadly, you will never learn it."

"I beat you at Worlds." Beca says,almost pouting, if she did that.

Which she doesn't.

Ever.

"Doesn't count."

"You Germans are so competitive." She grumbles. "It's such a huge thing to you."

"Competition isn't a thing, it's everything." And with that, she leaves.

* * *

Last night, Beca thought she'd embarrassed herself enough.

Causing a scene, getting drunk in front of the forever unfazed Kommissar, and rashly promising to do whatever Kommissar thought up.

But she was _so_ wrong.

"No, I'm not doing this." She hisses through clenched teeth. A devilish laugh is Kommissar's response. Her head pounds, hangovers suck.

"I'm really not. There's no way." She says, her head shaking in denial. She winces, movement is really a bad idea.

"You have to. You promised."

"I'll do something else!" She pleads in desperation. She's met with the iron gaze of a stubborn German.

"Fine." She huffs.

She waves her hand, Kommissar's phone starts recording.

"Hey... So I lost a bet." She gulps.

"And my punishment for an understandably unfair game is..." She sighs, then addresses her film operator.

"Do I really have to do this?" She's met with silence. She sighs again.

"My punishment is to sing I'm A Little Teapot... In German."

Deep breath.

"Ich bin ein wenig Teekanne...short and stout."

A chuckle from behind the camera.

"I don't know it all, ok?" Beca says indignantly.

She tosses her hair over her shoulder, feeling the last shreds of her dignity dying with each verse.

"Hier ist meine Handgriff, hier ist meine Tülle..."

* * *

( _A/N: I saw in an interview that Beca almost didn't sing the Cups song in the first movie, instead she was going to sing I'm A Little Teapot. So naturally, I used this information for a completely ridiculous fic.)_


	2. Edelweiss

_Hey everybody! So I forgot to say these were oneshots, sorry. :3_

 _This is fic is dedicated to the tumblr blogger kommissartrash. Thank you very much for the idea sweetie! I really loved writing it. :)_

 _Enjoy._

* * *

"Yeah? Well maybe you're _too_ perfect! You're just a robot with great legs!" Beca yells in frustration to Kommissar.

From across the room.

A crowded room.

And it's a very, very delayed response.

But what's she supposed to do when Kommissar says things like, "No need for nerves tomorrow Bella's. We will win, simple as snapping the fingers. We are perfect, resign yourselves to second place."

That woman is every level of frustrating.

So yeah, that was her response. A compliment that should have been an insult.

"She's like lodged in my head and covering it up with black leather." Beca moans to her friends.

"What if she really _is_ a robot? Maybe she's in your head from some kind of robot ray." Fat Amy muses.

Ignoring that, Chloe takes Beca's hands in hers and pulls her to the practice stage.

"Just shake it off. We got this. We're a ca-awesome."

Beca nods, hoping it's true.

* * *

It's later that night, and Beca's getting nervous. Not because of performing, Beca's done that enough to know how to shake away the stage fright, but because of Das Sound Machine's performance.

They're continually immaculate in every number they do, and Beca knows their Worlds song will be perfect times ten.

It will be extremely tough competition.

* * *

She's pacing back and forth in the hotel lobby, needing a break from being the Bella's leader and just be Beca.

A freaking out Beca.

A flash of white in her peripheral vision distracts her from her chaotic thoughts. She's confused, it's Pieter and Kommissar, but they're not dressed in black for once. Kommissar is in a white shirt and jeans. Still her classic bun.

It's a good look on her.

Beca shoos away that thought and notices the big black bag slung over Pieter's red sweatshirt-ed shoulder.

Beca considers herself a pretty chill person for the most part, letting people's personal lives stay that way, but curiosity burns in her mind as she watches them leave.

She follows after them.

It's not creepy.

Really it's not.

She needs some air anyway.

And if she just happens to be walking in the same direction as the DSM leaders, that's just coincidence right?

At least that's what she tells herself when she ducks behind a car because they turned to look behind them.

* * *

Ok, so Pieter and Kommissar might be the leaders of some kind of mob too.

Just maybe.

Or leaders of some alley gang.

Beca's kind of regretting following them as the road they walk down gets continually darker and dirtier.

She's actually wondering if she's going to end up getting shivved or shanked or whatever when they finally stop at a dingy looking building. Beca hurries inside, chest heaving as she climbs stairs leading to a second floor cafe. She immediately sits at a table nearest to the door, hiding her face with a newspaper she can't read.

The people already in the cafe ignore her, she's grateful for their indifference.

* * *

It's actually nice inside the cafe, with comfy pillows resting on chairs placed next to windows overlooking the city. The view is beautiful, a dark river flowing between houses, the setting sun softening the brightly colored buildings.

"Guten Abend, Klaus." Kommissar's voice says, pulling Beca from her surprised observations.

"Good evening, Kommissar."

The blonde is talking to the manager of the place, he smiles at her. He seems comfortable around the intimidating Germans, as though they've been here before. Pieter moves across the room to a spot overlooking the river.

Kommissar orders two coffees and sits by the window next to Pieter. He opens the bag, inside it is a mahogany acoustic guitar. More people trickle into the cafe as he tunes it, until the room is filled with all sorts of people, all watching his movements expectantly.

Kommissar smiles, really smiles, at the small crowd that waits patiently for Pieter to start playing.

It's breathtaking.

A light rises in her blue eyes, turning them crystal, and a beautiful sort of joy radiates from her being.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it stops.

Her face is stoic again, professional marble, and the room seems to dim.

Pieter starts to softly strum chords on his guitar, catching the attention of every cafe patron. After the into, he nods to Kommissar for her cue.

Her mouth opens, and she starts to sing.

* * *

"Edelweiss, edelweiss, every morning you greet me..."

Her voice is softer and higher than her regular alto numbers with DSM. Her voice is clear, like a bell ringing through the peaks and valleys of Austria.

It fills the room like a contented sigh.

"Small and white, clean and white, you look happy to meet me..."

One by one, voices sing behind hers, her voice floating above the harmonies.

"Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever..."

The harmony is not perfect, it's unpracticed, but the feeling behind it calls to the soul, entreating it to yearn for the things unspoken.

The things treasured and never forgotten.

The things both grand and small that burrow in the heart and turn it into a home.

It's such raw emotion, such power behind simple words, Beca's eyes water.

The voices ebb away towards the end, till only Kommissar's melody can be heard.

"Edelweiss, edelweiss, bless my homeland forever..."

The last note holds, suspended in the heart of the room.

It drifts and fades away.

There's a pause, a silence.

The cafe still hung in that transcendent moment.

The moment dissipates, as all things must, and applause replaces it. Whistles and choked laughs become the roar as people clap, some individuals wiping tears from their eyes.

Beca claps as well, whistling once as well, too moved to not join in with the crowd.

Pieter starts another song, and she sings along with everyone else.

Cool and chill exterior be damned, she's solely in this point in time, all other thoughts and worries and futures mean nothing.

Right now, there's just more music, and Kommissar's angelic voice singing to her soul.

* * *

"So, kleine maus, enjoy tonight?" Kommissar says, walking up from behind Beca, startling her.

The little Bella doesn't know how she had managed to do that, as she'd been staring at the duo the whole time and Kommissar hadn't even looked at her once. Hadn't even acknowledged her presence.

She'd thought it was because she'd been stealthy enough to escape notice.

"Don't do that to a girl!" Beca screeches, her hand holding her suddenly pounding heart. Kommissar chuckles.

"My apologies, tiny maus."

"You- um- you did good. I mean, you did well tonight." Kommissar smiles slightly, but it's nothing like earlier. Her eyes reveal little, and the height advantage she has on Beca makes any vulnerability she'd shown before completely vanish.

"Thank you. Not bad for a robot, no?" She asks with wry amusement.

"I'm sorry-"

"No need for that. Germany takes great pride in its machinery."

"You're not a machine, and definitely not tonight. You were-are-you were radiant. Just absolutely radiant. I mean, I've always loved the song Edelweiss, but that was..." Beca stops rambling, searching for the least embarrassing word to say. She doesn't find one.

"Well, you know..."

Kommissar saves her with a sincere nod of thanks.

"So...what made you choose this place? I mean, it's really out of the way." Beca asks, trying to find a better topic that won't turn her back into a flustered mess.

"Pieter and I found it a while ago. We were just trying to find a calm place to practice, but we favored this place most, and it became a habit. Many people in this area of the city do not have opportunities to see live performances, so when they asked to listen in, we did not refuse."

"That's nice of you." Beca comments. Kommissar shrugs.

"We did not do it to be nice, we did it because it wasn't a bother and we get free coffee."

Beca frowns skeptically at that, but Kommissar's face gives nothing away.

"I don't think I believe you." Kommissar grins wolfishly, her hand reaching out to fix the random hair sticking out in front of Beca's eyes. She pushes it behind her ear, it throws Beca off guard. She squeaks.

"Rest up, kleine maus. You will need your energy for tomorrow. I'll send Klaus to walk you back to the hotel."

"What about you?" Beca asks, still dazed over the sensation of Kommissar's velvet fingers across her forehead. A teasing smile flits across Kommissar's face, she turns and walks back to Pieter.

"Do not worry about me. After all, I'm a robot with great legs."

Beca stares at her retreating figure, the shape of her calves and... _above_ her calves in those jeans is very distracting. Before she even thinks, she calls after her.

"I still stand by that last part- Your legs really _are_ great- I mean- this changes nothing! I'll see you at Worlds!"


	3. Little Monster

_Hey everybody! So I'm getting rid of my What's Love and Got To Do With It? chapters on this fic and moving them to a new four-part story. Sorry for the confusion!_

* * *

"Shut up, you mean you've never had a pet? _Ever_?" Beca asks her blonde girlfriend in astonishment, Luisa shrugs.

"I was very invested in my education, I didn't have time for extra responsibilities."

"Kommissar since birth?" Beca teases, her hands resting on the island counter between her and Luisa.

Luisa, sitting on a stool opposite Beca, props her chin on a fisted hand and grins.

"Something like that. I'm not really an animal person, so it's not much of a loss."

"I had a turtle." Beca confides with a reminiscent smile. "I named him Spike."

"Spike?" Luisa's delicate right eyebrow raises in surprise of such an ordinary name. She'd been expecting the turtle to be named some snarky irony. Beca blushes.

"I was seven, okay? My soul hadn't darkened yet." Luisa snorts at that.

"I'm sure you were a, ah how they say, nice two feet?" Beca laughs.

"You mean a goody two shoes?" Luisa waves her hand once, dismissing the slip-up.

Beca still sees the faintest hint of pink staining tan cheekbones.

Oh, those cheekbones.

They'll be the death of her.

"So you've never even wanted a puppy?" Beca says, switching back to their beginning conversation to avoid jumping her right there and then.

"I wouldn't say that, but what does it matter?" Luisa says. She leans forward, her cleavage distracting Beca from asking anything else.

"Besides, kleine maus," she leans ever closer, her lips mere centimeters from the brunette's.

"I've always been more of a cat person."

* * *

Luisa's tired as she comes home that night, her keys jangle as she unlocks her front door.

"Beca, I'm home." She calls as she walks into their house.

She wanders through the kitchen, she's met with a mess of scattered paper towels, random shoes, and the occasional shredded t-shirt on the floor.

"Beca?" She calls again.

"In the living room." A muffled voice says.

Luisa steps over the junk and enters the living room.

It's worse than the kitchen.

Feathers are everywhere, some still floating in the air.

Her favorite couch pillow is torn open.

The room smells strongly of wet something, the TV set is sprinkled with water droplets lazily trailing in drips down the black screen.

Sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by brightly colored plastic toys and towels, is Beca.

And she's playing with a puppy.

* * *

"Please tell me that's just the neighbor's dog." Is Luisa's first response.

Beca's guilty smile speaks in volumes.

"No."

"Babe-"

" _No_. What did I say this morning?" Luisa asks sternly, her hands on her hips.

"That you're a cat person?" Beca says, though it sounds more like a question than an answer.

"After that." Luisa says impatiently.

"Go adopt a dog?" She asks hopefully, her little forehead scrunching sheepishly.

"The exact opposite. I said, _'do not get me a dog.'_ Those were my precise words. Weren't you listening?"

"Hey, that's not fair," Beca protests, one hand captured in the puppy's teeth and the other pointing at Luisa in accusation. "You had your shirt off when you said that. Anything you say when shirtless cannot be held against me."

Luisa huffs.

"Look, he can be _my_ puppy." Beca compromises. "You don't have to do anything, I'll take full responsibility of caring for him."

"That's what they all say." Luisa grumbles, gingerly sitting in the feathers next to Beca. She stares at the puppy who's contentedly chewing on Beca's thumb.

"I gave him a bath already, didn't I?" Beca says, Luisa's nose wrinkles when she realizes what that weird scent she'd smelled before had been.

Wet fur.

Yuck.

"Don't you know they just grow up to be _dogs_?"

Beca laughs at that, startling the orange ball of fluff, causing it to let go of her hand and run away, only to run back and snuggle into the brunette's lap.

"Look how cute he is." She gushes.

"It's a boy?" Luisa asks, gently poking the puppy's fluffy head once before making a face.

"Yup. I'm naming him Hund." Luisa chuckles.

"You do know that literally means Dog in German, right?"

"Yup." Beca says again, her lips popping on the 'p.'

Luisa hums in thought, staring at the now sleeping pup.

"He looks like a fuzzy little monster." She states. Beca's hand smacks her in the shoulder lightly.

"Mean."

"What kind of breed is he?" She asks, poking the puppy again. Hund doesn't wake and Beca shoos her hand away.

"He's a mutt. I went to the shelter today and asked for the cutest puppy they had."

"And they gave you _him_?" Luisa asks incredulously, Beca gives her a look.

"You're asking for another smack." She warns, Luisa just smirks.

Careful not to jostle Beca or Hund, she stands up.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

Beca's eyes immediately darken.

"I'll join you."

"Normally I'd be more than happy for you to join me, but right now you've got some cleaning up to do."

Beca looks around the room as if she's just now noticing the mess.

"Oh yeah."

"This had better be spotless when I'm done." Luisa says over her shoulder.

"Yes Kommissar." Beca says in mock seriousness, saluting to Luisa's retreating back.

She looks down at her new little fur ball, then at the chaos Hund had made.

She sighs.

"You're gonna be trouble, Hund. I can tell."

* * *

"Beca!" Luisa's stressed voice screeches from the bedroom. "The little monster has chewed up my sheet music!"

"Sorry about that."

"And there's fur just-just _everywhere_! Even on my DSM uniform!"

"Well that tends to happen when you've got a furry creature running about." Beca says as she walks to the bedroom.

"I haven't got time for your snark, I have to go meet with Pieter and a producer. Have you seen my black LouBoutin's? They're not in the closet anymore."

Beca helps search for Luisa's favorite shoes, she can't help but subtlety check out the vision that is her girlfriend in leather.

"I can feel you staring at my butt. You won't find my shoes there. Try looking under the bed." Luisa deadpans.

"Are these them?" Beca asks, cringing as she holds a pair of shoes up.

Both the heels are completely chewed off.

Luisa curses.

"I'll buy you new ones." Beca says hurriedly.

"They cost over 1,200 U.S. Dollars."

" _Holy_ -"

"Never mind. I have to go." Luisa grabs a different pair of black heels and practically runs out the door.

"Bye maus, see you later tonight. Get that little monster under control!"

* * *

They're sleeping, snuggled together, when they're woken by a piercing howl.

"What the-" Beca says, alert and sitting up at lightning speed.

"What was that?" She asks Luisa, who's just burrowing deeper in the covers.

"I believe that was your dog, wanting to be let out." Her half asleep but still exasperated voice says in her pillow.

Beca groans and gets out of bed, grumbling unintelligibly to herself as she opens the door. A blur of orange races past her, running in two circles before running out of the room. He runs back in, ramming right into Beca's legs.

"Ow! Alright, alright." She mumbles, groggily following after the streak of energy.

After a too-long minute of being out in the cold, Beca climbs back into bed, curling next to her blonde equivalent of a heater. Luisa shrieks a little when Beca's frozen feet brush against her calves.

"Sorry, 'm cold." Beca mumbles.

They settle in again, finally getting comfortable.

Another howl pierces the night.

" _Motherfu_ -" Beca half exclaims, stomping to the door and throwing it open. Hund runs around the room, sprinting as fast as his little legs can carry him.

After two failed attempts of catching the orange demon, Beca gives up and goes back to bed.

The sound of Hund's paws pounding across the floor is un-ignorable.

Who'd imagine such a small body could make so much noise?

"Tell me again, why didn't we get a cat?" Luisa asks wryly.

"Because we're not hipster enough." Beca says.

There's a pause.

"That makes no sense."

"It's three in the morning, I'm allowed to not make sense."

The running stops, the girls breath a sigh of relief, there's a blissful silence.

It only lasts for two minutes.

The frantic sprinting sound starts again, then a _whump_ as Hund accidentally runs into a wall.

Beca's the first one to laugh, followed quickly by Luisa.

After the time it takes to have a weird and slightly loopy conversation about cats and lesbians and the levels of coolness for both of them, Hund finally runs himself to sleep.

Eventually the girls do too.

The house is quiet.

Until 5 o' clock, when it all starts again.

* * *

Soon, they get used to the ball of energy living with them.

Sheet music folders and books are always put back on shelves after being used, clothes and shoes are safe in closed closets, and noise is ignored.

When Hund loses the opportunity to chew shoes, he goes after chair legs.

"Monster, you have your own chew toys." Luisa scolds Hund one night, who's trying to chew the kitchen chair she's sitting on.

Beca, who's sprawled on the living room couch, almost laughs at the sight of the tall woman berating the unashamed floof of orange.

"He can't understand you." She says, unable to resist butting in.

"Well I have to try _something_." Luisa mutters.

"Aw, that's so cute. You want to chat with puppies. And you said you weren't an animal person." Beca teases.

She can practically feel Luisa's annoyance emanate in waves.

"You're _both_ little monsters." She grumbles.

Beca just laughs.

* * *

Beca wakes with a start, the moon bathing her face in its pale light. She looks to the left of her, the sheets are empty.

Shivering, she pulls a white throw-over blanket around her shoulders and walks through the house like some timid specter.

She pads down the hall and hears a noise coming from the kitchen. She grabs the closest thing next to her, a lint brush, and tries to sneak up on the intruder.

When she reaches the perfect spot in the house, where she can see the kitchen without anyone in the kitchen seeing her, she finds the cutest surprise.

The room is illuminated by the open refrigerator door, and Luisa is lying flat on her back, comfortable on the white tiles, holding Hund up above her like some canine superman.

Or Simba.

What's even cuter is how still Hund is in Luisa's hands.

His tail is wagging in happiness, but he's so calm, simply letting Luisa fly him around in circles.

It's probably the most adorable thing Beca has ever seen.

She heads back to bed, not wanting to disturb the moment.

A little while later, Luisa slips under the sheets with her, sighing contentedly when her head hits the pillow.

Hund whines from the floor, trying to peek on the top of the bed where his girls are.

He's too short.

Luisa gets up and picks up the pathetic little thing, gently setting him on the bed.

"Gute nacht, liebling kleine monster." She whispers to him, kissing him between his furry ears before lying back down.

For the first time ever, Hund sleeps all through the night, sandwiched between his girls.

* * *

Hund ends up sleeping with the singers every night, his designated doggy bed a forgotten memory.

His little flight sessions with Luisa also become a habit, though Luisa doesn't share them with Beca.

She tries to keep her fondness for the puppy under wraps, but Beca always notices it anyway.

One night Beca had come home super late, and when she'd walked in the living room, Luisa hadn't even noticed.

She had been too busy snuggling with Hund.

The puppy had been lying with his back on Luisa's abdomen, Beca thought it was ridiculous how jealous she was of her own dog in that moment, and Luisa had been scratching his little tummy while serenading to him in German.

And _that_ was actually the most adorable thing Beca had ever seen.

Maybe Luisa knew Beca had seen her, but she never said anything, so neither did Beca.

* * *

"Luisa, look! I taught Hund a new trick!" Beca says excitedly.

Luisa walks into the kitchen, bringing the book she'd been reading along with her.

"Alright, let's have a demonstration." She says, leaning against the counter.

"Hund, sit." Beca says in a slightly lower tone than normal.

Luisa smirks when she realizes it's Beca's 'command' tone.

And of course, Hund does nothing.

Beca tries again.

"Hund, sit. Sit. _Sit_."

Still nothing.

Luisa tries too.

"Monster, _sitz_."

Hund sits.

"Traitor." Beca mutters, Luisa laughs.

"You're just as bad, stealing my dog like that, you gorgeous bastard." Beca says, her arms crossing as she huffs. Luisa hooks her fingers through the belt loops of Beca's skinny jeans, pulling the miffed brunette closer.

"Ah, fiesty maus. He's still your Hund." She peppers little butterfly kisses on pale cheeks, which pinken from the attention.

"But he's also my monster."

Beca harrumphs in indignation at that, Luisa chuckles at her adorable expression.

Beca is less amused.

"You- you- ugh, I don't have words for you right now." She says.

"I'll take 'the best girlfriend ever'." Luisa suggests, Beca's eyes narrow even as her arms wind around the blonde's waist.

"You don't deserve it." Beca says.

Luisa kisses her.

"What about now?" She asks.

"Maybe not quite yet."

Luisa kisses her till she's breathless and flushed.

"Ok, you're the best girlfriend ever."

Luisa kisses her again, but when Beca leans in for more, she opts to pick up Hund, twirling him around once before waltzing out of the kitchen with him.

"Where are you going?" Beca asks, feeling gypped.

"Monster and I have a training class to go to." Beca gasps.

"What?!" She shouts.

"Surely you noticed the chair legs are still in tact." Luisa's voice says from the front door.

Beca checks, the table and chairs do look better, as though they haven't been chewed on for some time.

"You're welcome." Luisa says, smiling in over-exaggerated sweetness as she walks out the door.

"You cheat! You filthy, mega hot cheat!"


	4. A Day In The Life

_Written for tumblr blogger dlvpll (Thank you very much for letting me use your idea, I hope you like it! Sorry it's so late.)_

* * *

It's a beautiful morning, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and the wind carries the scent of pine.  
Beca is miserable.  
"Why are we hiking again?" She complains to the blonde woman walking in front of her.  
She squints as a particularly blinding ray of sun breaks through the tree branches.  
"And why so early in the morning? Saturdays are made for sleeping in." Luisa chuckles at the pathetic whine coating her Bella's voice, it's endearing.  
"There's nothing more invigorating and refreshing than a morning hike, no?" She asks, happy as a lark to be out in the open air.  
"No." Beca says flatly.  
"Grumpy maus. Enjoy the outdoors."  
"I can enjoy it just fine from my car." She grumbles.  
"Then think of it as exercise."  
"I could think of a better way to exercise." Beca says, staring at the very nice view in front of her.  
Skin tight spandex and a tank top hug toned muscles.  
She's a lucky girl.  
"Eyes up front, soldier." Luisa says.  
"Never, _Kommissar_." Beca says, grinning.  
They stop talking, Beca needs oxygen a little more than flirting.  
But only a little.  
After what feels like forever, Luisa veers off the dirt path, pulling Beca with her into the trees.  
A couple minutes and a few tree branches to the face later, they reach a clearing.  
If Beca'd had any breath to spare, she'd have lost it.  
They've reached a lake, as smooth and dark as black obsidian, it reflects the eternal blue expanse with its cotton candy clouds above it.  
A perfect mirror.  
A wetter version of the sky.  
"Luisa, let's go hiking more often."  
"Whatever you say, kleine maus."

* * *

Chloe's staring out the window, her fingers tapping impatiently on the table in front of her, waiting for Beca.  
Fat Amy is humming, stopping every once in a while to giggle at some text Bumper sends to her.  
It's not annoying at _all_.  
Chloe's about to either scream or rip the phone from Fat Amy's hands, or both, when Beca finally bursts through the coffee shop door, quickly ordering her coffee before hurrying to the girls' table.  
"Sorry I'm late." Beca says, sliding into the chair next to Chloe. "Luisa's a dork and forced me to hike this morning. It was actually pretty cool."  
"Whoa, hold the phone." Amy says, letting hers fall to the table. The clatter causes several heads in the shop to turn.  
"Beca Mitchell went hiking? _The_ Beca Mitchell?" She screeches, several of those turned heads shush her.  
"Oi, private conversation going on here. Go back to your lonely internetting." She says, completely unfazed by the glares. "Now, where were we?"  
"Beca went hiking. And _liked_ it." Chloe reminds her, a more subtle disbelief also coloring her tone.  
Beca scowls at their teasing, crossing her arms as she huffs.  
"I can be outdoorsy." She mutters, Chloe snorts indelicately.  
"Says the girl who freaked out when we went on a tiny little retreat and had to share a tent."  
"Hey, that was _not_ outdoorsy, that was a smelly, personal space invading hell." Beca protests.  
"Gibmer Wein, your coffee's ready." A barista calls, Beca stands up, laughing to herself.  
"Who's Gibmer Wein?" Chloe asks, Beca laughs again.  
"It's this thing I do with Luisa. Gib mer wein in German means 'give me wine' and the baristas always think it's a name. It happened once as an accidental joke, but then we kept doing it. They never catch it."  
"Ahhhh, funny. Totally get it." Amy says, not getting it all.  
Beca leaves to get her coffee, still chuckling.  
"She's turning German!" Amy hisses as soon as she's out of hearing range.  
"What?" Chloe asks, not following the Australian's train of thought.  
"Beca, Kommissar is turning her German!"  
"I don't think you can turn someone German."  
"Trust me on this. It's happening."  
Chloe shakes her head, red curls swishing.  
"Fine. Let's make a bet." Amy offers. "If Beca doesn't say anything out of the ordinary, you win. But if she says three German-ish sounding things, I win."  
"That's ridiculous." Chloe says. "Let's do it."  
Amy claps her hands once in enthusiasm, earning more glares from around the room.  
"Oh and when I win you owe me twenty dollars." Amy says quickly, Beca walks back before Chloe can even protest.  
"So Beca," Amy says, winking at Chloe. "How're things with Luisa?"  
Beca ducks her head, but not before the two other girls can see flushed cheeks and a smile.  
"Gut. I mean, good. Things are good." Beca coughs, feeling awkward as Amy smiles a half-moon grin at her.  
She sips her coffee.  
It burns her tongue.  
"Ow." She mutters, Chloe pats her arm in sympathy.  
"So what are we doing today?" She asks, changing the subject off of her.  
Chloe perks up.  
"Actually, it's what are we _singing_ today. Emily asked us to visit and jam with the new Bella's!"  
"Cool. Whipping freshman into shape sounds like fun." Beca says.  
"Are you being sarcastic? Because I honestly can't tell." Amy says, squinting a bit, as if trying to read Beca's thoughts.  
"No, really. I've um- I've missed the Bella's."  
"Aww." Chloe squeals, hugging Beca tightly.  
"I just miss bossing everyone around." Beca jokes.  
"Our American Kommissar." Amy says, winking at Chloe again. Chloe rolls her eyes.  
"Ja, definitely." Beca says.  
Amy whoops in victory, jumping out of her chair and startling all the poor hipsters in the coffee place.  
"I won! You owe me twenty, Chloe."  
The redhead groans, pulling a twenty out of her wallet and begrudgingly handing it over to Amy.  
"What?" Beca asks, flummoxed.  
"Sorry Beca, Amy made a bet about you turning German. I lost." Chloe says, Amy nods, still celebrating her win with enthusiastic fist pumping.  
"I'm not turning German, that's not a thing."  
"It's totally a thing! And you proved it." Amy says, Beca shakes her head.  
"Weirdos. Let's just go meet Emily."  
"You're the boss…Komm-"  
" _Don't_ say it." Beca warns Amy, Amy just grins like a Cheshire.

* * *

Luisa arrives precisely on time to Pieter's apartment flat.  
He answers the door after her first knock.  
"Ready to find the first American DSM studio, Kommissar?" He asks in greeting, she nods.  
"We're taking my car." She says, her keys jangling in her hands.  
"Why not mine?" Pieter asks, following after her as she walks down the stairs.  
"Because, you leave the top down."  
"That's the purpose of having a- ah- a topless car."  
"They're called convertibles."  
"Whatever." He says dismissively, scowling as he bends himself into her black Mercedes Benz.  
He feels so _small_ in her car.  
It's an odd feeling.  
"How is the kleine maus?" He asks as Luisa pulls into the street.  
"Doing well. I finally took her hiking."  
"And?"  
"She liked it. She asked to go back to the lake again soon."  
"The fiesty maus is filled with surprises." She smiles at that.  
"Indeed."  
They meet their realtor at the first destination, an old dance studio.  
It's too small for what they need, so they move on.  
The small warehouse they visit has more than enough room, but it's too out of the way.  
Another studio, another no.  
Two more places, all unsatisfactory under the scrutiny of Luisa's hawk-eyed gaze.  
They stop for lunch, the poor realtor at a separate table, needing to look for new places on her laptop, and needing time away from the two intimidating Germans.  
Pieter looks on in distaste as Luisa heaps a generous amount of ketchup on her food.  
"I still do not know why they are called 'chicken fingers'," he says, gesturing to her plate. "Chickens do not even have fingers."  
"They are the only thing I recognize on this menu other than the hamburger. Beca seems to be quite fond them, as they are the only things in the freezer besides my food."  
"I take it the little maus is not the most diverse of chefs."  
"You have no idea."  
They finish lunch, and Luisa keeps noticing Pieter staring at her curiously every once in a while.  
"What?" She asks, he dives straight to the point.  
"Your maus has been American-izing you, no?" She scoffs.  
"Hardly."  
"See you later." The friendly waitress says as they walk out of the restaurant.  
"See ya." Is Luisa's automatic response.  
Pieter's expression practically screams smug satisfaction.  
"Not a word." She commands, he shrugs, unfazed by her fierce glare.  
"I've already been vindicated."  
A punch to the shoulder.  
He pretends it doesn't hurt.  
"Realtor lady," Luisa barks, every bit of her in Kommissar mode.  
 _Annoyed_ Kommissar mode.  
"If the next place we see does not please me, I will be sending you to my old DSM studio in Germany. In a box."  
The poor woman nods, literally shaking in her heeled boots.  
Pieter actually feels something akin to pity for the lady.  
An annoyed Kommissar is a _scary_ Kommissar.

Thankfully, the next place is absolutely perfect. Even Luisa cannot find fault in it.  
It's an old art studio the size of the first warehouse they'd visited, with Van Gogh's A Starry Night painted on the widest wall, great acoustics thanks to high ceilings, and a half floor that still allows view of everything that happens down below.  
"It is flawless." Pieter says to Luisa, after flipping round-off back handsprings around the room, checking for enough space.  
"Then it is DSM's new studio." She says, sharing a smile with Pieter, both of them excited to find such a place.  
It fits DSM.  
It fits _them_.  
"As much as I had looked forward to shipping you in a box, Realtor Lady," Luisa says, all business and scary Kommissar again. "I believe we will take this place."  
The woman's sigh of relief is audible.  
Luisa and Pieter start to walk away, the woman calls after them.  
"Wait! Don't you want to discuss prices?"  
"Find the price, imagine saying that price to my face, then find a better price and get back to me." Luisa says, Pieter smirks.  
His Kommissar is so much fun when she's sassy.  
They walk out of the studio, tall and proud.  
Like giants roaming the earth.

* * *

Beca's already at home and on the couch when Luisa comes back.  
She smiles when Luisa saunters to her side, leaning over the couch to kiss her little maus on the forehead.  
"There's my tall blondie." She says, her hands reaching up to undo Luisa's bun as she kisses her properly.  
It's awkward, Beca's back is painfully digging into the couch's side as she leans backwards to kiss her girl, but the satisfied little smile on Luisa's face is worth it.  
"Did you find a studio?" She asks when Luisa straightens.  
"I did. I cannot wait to show you, meine kleine maus." Luisa says, excitement bouncing in her eyes, even as she collapses on top of Beca's slight frame.  
"Oof! I can't wait to see it." Beca says, smiling at the dork currently crushing her.  
"A little tired, babe?" She asks, Luisa just mumbles incoherently.  
"Luisa, you speak eight languages. Use one of them."  
Her reply is still muffled, but intelligible.  
"I worked out with Pieter before I came home." Beca nods, immediately understanding.  
The two Germans are so competitive, they usually run each other ragged when exercising together, both loathing to admit when they've finally reached their limit.  
"Oh, before you pass out from exhaustion, you ridiculous hottie, I have something to tell you."  
"Am I a ridiculous hottie because I'm hot and ridiculous, or ridiculously hot?" Luisa asks, slightly loopy from fatigue.  
"The first one. Both. Babe, listen." Becca says.  
"I'm all of the ears."  
Beca doesn't even bother to correct her, instead plunging ahead to say what's been nagging at her mind all afternoon.  
"Today, Chloe and Fat Amy told me I'm turning German because of you."  
Luisa laughs, tickling Beca with the motion of her shaking stomach.  
"That's not a thing."  
"That's what I said! But apparently you're rubbing off on me."  
"Pieter said something like that today. You must be rubbing off on me as well."  
"What do you think about that?" Beca asks, Luisa sighs.  
"Many people who spend copious amounts of time together often find they've integrated with the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies of their preferred other."  
There's a long pause.  
"What?"  
Another sigh.  
"We're very, very close Beca."  
"You can say that again." Beca interrupts, her fingers wiggling against the curves of Luisa's waist and hips.  
A sharp fingernail pokes her in the shoulder.  
"Ow."  
" _As I was saying_ , we're close, so it's only natural we're starting to blend together a little more." Luisa suddenly pushes herself off of Beca, hovering above her.  
Beca almost whimpers from the loss of contact.  
"You're ok with that, ja?" Luisa asks, worried.  
Beca's fingers smooth away the wrinkles in Luisa's forehead, stroking her cheek, outlining the shape of her lips.  
"Ja, definitely." She relaxes at that, sinking onto the small girl's body again.  
It's quiet for a while, Luisa starts to doze, her warm breath coming out in little puffs onto Beca's neck.  
"Luisa?" Beca asks quietly.  
"Mmhmm?" She answers, half asleep.  
"I am _ecstatic_ that we are starting to blend together." Luisa raises her head, staring straight into doe brown eyes.  
"Oh, meine liebling maus… Ditto."  
Beca's body stiffens, Luisa settles back into her former position.  
She smiles to herself, she can feel the little brunette's indignation coming off in waves.  
"That's it?" Beca says, trying to contain her frustration.  
"To quote a certain brown-haired Bella, yup." Luisa says mischievously, her lips deliciously popping the 'p' into Beca's neck.  
"You're messing with me, aren't you?"  
"Yup." Luisa does it again, Beca groans.  
"You're impossible."  
"I try."  
"I hate that."  
"You don't."  
She huffs, which turns into a squeal when her neck receives a little bite.  
"What was that for?"  
"Albern maus, my affections for you are vast." Luisa says softly, laying a ghost of a kiss on the pinkening skin.  
"Oh." Beca says, the sweet and sincere words washing over her like a gentle sea.  
She tries to find a reply with the same impact.  
"Ditto."  
Luisa chuckles, the sound reverberating through every bone in Beca's body.  
"Go to sleep, kleine maus. Nap with me."  
"It's six o'clock at night."  
"So?"  
"So when we wake up we won't be able to go back to sleep for hours."  
"I'm sure we'll find a way to wile away the time." Luisa whispers against the shell of her ear, Beca shivers.  
"How am I supposed to sleep when you say things like _that_?"  
"Because you know that after we sleep, _that_ can happen."  
Beca closes her eyes immediately, willing herself to fall asleep.  
Luisa smiles, shifting herself so that only half of her is smushing the little Bella.  
Beca misses the heat of her Kommissar blanket, but she's slightly grateful.  
It had been getting rather hard to breathe.  
"Goodnight Luisa."  
"Goodnight kleine maus."


	5. Melted

"I am not enjoying this." Pieter says, crossing his arms as he takes up too much space in the middle of the couch.

Luisa and Beca are on either side of him, Beca awkwardly folding herself inwards to take up as little room as possible.

Luisa is sprawled out, her legs stretched out across Pieter's knees, her toes almost brushing against Beca's arm.

"It's Frozen. How can you _not_ enjoy it?" Beca asks, she would be scandalized if she wasn't so absorbed with the soundtrack.

"You must admit the story has flaws." Luisa comments, her toes tickling the pale skin of Beca's shoulder.

"There's no way Elsa could be locked in her room that entire time, she'd have to leave at some point. And she'd have to see Anna too, they couldn't have been completely separated from each other for so long. It just doesn't make sense."

Beca swats Luisa's tanned foot away, huffing as she turns the TV's volume up.

"Dude, it's Disney. You don't question Disney. Now shh, I'm studying the music."

"Why?" Pieter asks, mystified.

"Because it gives me something better to do than wonder why you're here, interrupting date night." Beca says, giving him a fierce glare.

Well, it would be fierce if she wasn't wearing pajamas and pink fuzzy slippers.

And was at least a head and a half shorter than the tall German.

"And _that_ is what you wear on date nights?" Pieter asks, looking down to her clothing choices with distaste.

He turns to Luisa, his head shaking in mock pity.

"You've chosen under you." He looks back down at Beca's diminished and curled up state. " _Way_ under you."

"The word is beneath you and- _hey_!" Beca says, interrupting herself in indignation.

Luisa chuckles, smacking Pieter lightly on the shoulder.

"Stop upsetting the liebling, she likes this movie, and she happens to look adorable."

Beca blushes at that, smiling down at her slippered feet.

It quiets as they listen to Anna and Hans sing of their newfound love and the opening of doors.

"This is ridiculous." Pieter whispers to Luisa. "Who would want to finish someone else's sandwich when they have a perfectly good sandwich of their own?"

"Shh." Beca hisses.

A pause.

"It must be an American thing."

"Pieter! I swear to every snowball in this movie I will deck you if you make one more smart ass comment."

Pieter smirks at that.

"Please, Beca, I know the booty is tempting, but you don't have to complement its intelligence."

Beca punches his shoulder with as much strength as she can muster.

The German bastard doesn't even have the decency to pretend it hurt.

* * *

Beca is in the kitchen, pouring hot chocolate into mugs for Luisa and herself.

In Pieter's mug, she pours water.

It's not that she dislikes the annoying, smug, immaculately dressed, snarky, arrogant, _irritating as an itch she can't reach_ \- ok, maybe she dislikes him a little bit.

She just can't figure him out.

He seems so…something.

She just doesn't know.

He means so much to Luisa, and cares about her just as much, so that redeems him a little.

He's like the brother she's never had, nor wanted, but can't help feeling just the tiniest bit of fondness for.

It's irking.

* * *

She's walking back into the living room, Pieter and Luisa's back to her, when she stumbles across something unexpected.

Unexpected and lovely.

Elsa is releasing her internal struggles while creating a castle of ice, and Pieter and Luisa are singing along with her.

Elsa is singing the main melody, Luisa singing harmony, and Pieter harmonizing to Luisa.

Luisa's voice is clear, dusting Elsa's voice with crystal.

Pieter is a low bass, a deep rumbling that curls in Beca's chest like a purr.

The layers build with the song, lifting it to heights Beca never thought the tune could ever reach on its own.

But it's no longer alone.

It's joined with familiarity, comforting love, and the security of someone staying by your side.

Never has letting go sounded so much like holding on.

It's beautiful.

Simply, purely, utterly beautiful.

* * *

"Wow." She whispers to herself as the song ends.

Pieter and Luisa hear it, their heads turn in unison as they stare at the small brunette.

"That was…unbelievable." She says, still blown away.

Luisa smiles softly in thanks, her countenance even more relaxed than before.

"It was not too bad for first try harmony, no?" Pieter says, a little quirk of his lips the only sign giving away his pleasure at such sincere praise.

"Shut up, that was your first try?!" Beca says, astonished.

Pieter quirks an eyebrow at the outburst.

"Why would you tell me to shut up and then ask a question?"

Luisa pats his hand lightly, trying and failing to keep the amused smile from her lips.

"It is just an expression, like gee whiz, oh my, and wow."

Beca snorts as such dorky words fall from Luisa's mouth, they sound awkward and rehearsed.

"You finally got to quote Princess Diaries, you must be so proud." She teases, Luisa just grabs her waist and pulls the little Bella into her lap.

"Watch the hot chocolate!" Beca yelps, trying to save the couch from splashes.

"Hot chocolate?" Pieter says, trying to seem nonchalant.

Beca notices the gleam shining in his eyes at the mention of the sweet beverage though, she wishes she hadn't poured water in his mug.

She also wishes she hadn't left it in the kitchen.

"I- um, I didn't make enough for three." She says, wincing a bit in regret. "I'll go back and make some m-"

"No need, have mine." Luisa says, interrupting her.

She hands her mug to Pieter and grabs Beca's drink, taking a sip from it.

Her light colored lipstick stains the rim.

"We'll share." A drip of cocoa trickles from Luisa's mouth.

Beca kisses it off.

It tastes like chocolate strawberries.

"No sucking of the faces while I'm here." Pieter says, childishly covering his eyes with one hand.

"I'm sure we'll be too invested in watching the movie." Luisa says sarcastically.

Beca finally turns to the screen again, and she sits up straighter in Luisa's lap as it captures her attention.

"Oh wait, no this is a good part." She says excitedly, completely forgetting the ready and willing lips that had been moments away from kissing her.

"Hey, it's Olaf!" Pieter says, no longer even trying to hide his excitement as the funny snowman sings his solo.

"I'm surrounded by children." Luisa mutters, taking another sip of the hot chocolate.

"You love it." Beca says, leaning back to snuggle in her blonde girlfriend's arms.

"I must admit, I do."


	6. There You Are

_Written for a prompt by tumblr blogger kateinua_

 _Enjoy._

* * *

 **There You Are**

They'd been having a slow night in, Beca, Luisa, and Pieter, when Luisa had announced herself bored and dying for alcohol.  
Pieter had offered to take them all bar hopping, as 'his topless car gets all the hot ones.'  
Beca had called that shallow.  
Pieter had not cared.

* * *

So here they are, sitting on the black metal stools of some hipster bar, drinking some fruity thing that claims to have 'extra electrolytes' in it.  
All Beca cares about is that it's sweet and inexpensive.  
Pieter's outside, leaning against his apple red car, flirting with a pretty, pink-haired girl who's practically drooling on the spot at his accent.  
Beca's wondering just how effective Pieter's flirting will end up when her musings are interrupted by a husky and over confident voice.  
"Hey there blondie, can I buy you a drink?" The voice belongs to a tall man, his v-neck shirt showing off his toned muscles, his hair covered by a gray beanie.  
"Nothing is stopping you, but nothing will stop me from drinking it alone." Luisa says, speaking in her intimidating Kommissar tone.  
The man smiles, undeterred at her obvious rejection. He leans in closer, a finger brushing the soft skin of Luisa's golden shoulder.  
"I'm sure I can change your mind, I'm quite persuasive. I could even converse in German, if that would please you. You'll find I'm _great_ with tongues."  
Beca says nothing as the conversation happens, watching it mutely through disgusted eyes.  
"There you are baby, sorry I'm late." Pieter is suddenly there, snaking his arm around Luisa's waist and kissing her on the neck.  
If Beca wasn't paralyzed with awkwardness, she'd be confused and curious.  
And very not happy.  
Pieter's gesture seems sincere and sweet, and so, so familiar.  
As if he's kissed Luisa's neck many times before.  
Maybe he has.  
It's a disconcerting thought.  
As he continues to shoo the beanie guy away, Beca wonders just how much of Luisa Pieter's kissed.  
She figures she doesn't really want to know.

* * *

They've changed bars now, dancing to a heavy beat under multicolored strobe lights.  
Beca's glad she'd decided to forgo heels, though she feels even shorter than usual dancing next to Luisa in six-inched boots.  
She decides it's not so bad being short when her tall girlfriend decides to press her back to her, her black leather clad butt rolling in circles around Beca's navel.  
Her eyes are dark with desire when Luisa turns to face her, a teasing smirk adorning her ruby painted lips.  
The smirk is positively _dirty._  
Beca's glad no one can see her blush.  
They take a break for some chilled vodka shots. A blonde guy breaks away from the throng of sweating bodies to saunter over to the girls.  
At least, Beca assumes that's what he means to do.  
It looks more like a drunken stumble.  
"Hey hottie, wanna dance?" He asks Luisa.  
Beca steps in front of him, her arms crossed in annoyance.  
"She's already with someone." She says, trying to sound menacing.  
Mostly, she just squeaks.  
"Don't worry cutie, I'll dance with you next, but first I'm going to dance with your sister." He says.  
"Come on girls, they're finally playing the song I requested." Pieter says, magically appearing by Luisa's side, scaring the dude away, just like before.  
And just like before, his arm is around Luisa's waist.  
Luisa grabs Beca's hand and pulls her along with them.  
As they walk away from the drunken dimwit, Pieter's arm stays around Luisa, keeping her close.  
Beca tries not to care.  
She does anyway.

* * *

They visit a couple different places after dancing, Pieter receives three different numbers from very cute girls, and Luisa gets hit on most everywhere.  
Pieter always comes to her rescue.  
It drives Beca a tiny bit crazy.  
Whenever a guy comes up to Beca, Luisa drives him away with one intimidating stare.  
Beca wishes she could do that.

* * *

"You have been very quiet tonight, kleine maus. Is everything ok?" Luisa asks when they're home, brushing her teeth in the bathroom as Beca pouts from the bed.  
"Everything's _peachy_." Beca grumbles, clearly not feeling peachy.  
She hears Luisa rinse then spit.  
Then silence.  
Suddenly, she's pounced on.  
Luisa pushes her on her back, the taller woman straddling the brunette, hovering above her to stare into her eyes.  
Beca wants to drown in those sleepy blue depths.  
"Kleine maus, spill the peas." Luisa says, smelling of cinnamon and alcohol.  
The combination shouldn't smell good, but it does.  
It weakens Beca's resolve to keep her insecurities to herself.  
"It's spill the beans." She says, trying and failing not to smile at the intoxicated woman above her.  
Luisa simply shrugs.  
"Both are small and edible, just like you." Luisa grins predatorily, nipping at Beca's neck.  
Beca giggles, still kinda buzzed, before she remembers Pieter's lips on a different neck.  
She cringes.  
Luisa immediately freezes, pulling away from the Bella.  
"Did I hurt you, liebling?" The concern is stark in Luisa's voice, it shakes Beca from her worried thoughts.  
"No! No, it's just- tonight Pieter was… I dunno." Beca stammers, internally cursing herself for being such a jealous idiot.  
Realization dawns in Luisa's eyes, she frowns in apology.  
"Kleine maus, I'm sorry. I should have explained this earlier. Before I met you, when Pieter and I used to go places together, I would frequently be- the word is tingling my tongue, ah yes- I would be _propositioned_ , and it grew tiresome to have to reject the persistent oafs again and again. So Pieter would come to my side for a little while, pretending to be my lover."  
Beca laughs, half at the absurdity of her own self and half in sharp relief.  
"Just pretending?" She asks, wanting to hear it once more, Luisa nods in confirmation.  
"Just pretending."  
Beca smiles, and pulls on Luisa's t-shirt, tugging her into a kiss.  
As she pulls away she laughs again, suddenly remembering Luisa's earlier phrasing mistake.  
"By the way, it's the tip of my tongue, not tingling my tongue."  
Luisa blushes, a proper, pinkened flush, and it makes Beca's heart melt into a useless goop of affection.  
"I'll tingle _your_ tongue." Luisa mutters drunkenly, kissing Beca again.  
And again.  
And again.  
And then again once more.  
Beca reciprocates enthusiastically.

* * *

Much later, when they're curled together and Luisa is asleep, Beca whispers the words she's wanted to say all night.  
"I wish _I_ could be the one to protect you, not Pieter. Not that you need to be protected, but-"  
"Liebling, you protect me in more ways than you could possibly know."  
Beca bites her lip, embarrassed.  
"You're supposed to be sleeping, that's how these confession things work."  
"Well you should learn to check better."  
Beca huffs, Luisa pulls her closer.  
"Feisty maus, you silly goof. You are not Pieter, and Pieter is not you. I do not compare you two, and neither should you. I love you differently, it can't really be explained."  
There's a pause as Beca absorbs her words, she's been sober for a while, but the words intoxicate her all over again.  
"You _love_ me." Beca says, hiding an absolutely ridiculous grin in Luisa's hair.  
"It wasn't exactly a secret." She says dryly.  
" _Still_." Beca says, the grin never fading, her lips light against defined collarbones.  
"Beca, go to sleep." Luisa says fondly.  
"As my Kommissar commands me." She says in mock seriousness, even as her eyelids begin to droop.  
"Oh, Luisa?"  
"Ja?"  
"I love you too."


	7. Fame Is Hard To Do

_This was prompted by an anonymous tumblr blogger._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

Fame Is Hard To Do

"What's the game plan again?" Beca asks, staring out the tiny airplane window, straining her neck to see land.  
Luisa is sitting to her right, reading a book with rapt attention.  
"Luisa." Beca says, Luisa tears her gaze from the pages of Dante Alighieri to pay attention to her bored girlfriend.  
"What?"  
"What're we doing when we're in Germany?" Luisa sighs.  
"We've gone over this five times."  
"Once more?" At Beca's pleading expression, Luisa relents, closing her book, saving her place with a black ribbon.  
"Today we're just settling into the hotel, tomorrow visiting the Brandenburg Gate, at some point we're visiting Pieter's family, I have to spend a day working, and the two other days we can explore Berlin. There's so much to do there."  
"We're visiting Pieter's family?" Beca asks, she hadn't remembered that detail.  
"Mina and Evert, they're Pieter's parents, made me promise to visit them every time I am near Berlin."  
"Aw, that's really sweet. Do I get to meet your family too?" Beca asks. Luisa nods.  
"My mother actually lives next door to the Krämers."  
"Not your dad?"  
At that, Luisa looks down, intertwining her fingers with Beca's.  
"No." Her answer is soft.  
"Sorry."  
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly. Please turn off all electronics, thank you." The pilot's tinny voice filters through the overhead speakers, Luisa lets go of Beca's hand to pick up her book.  
When the plane lands, she smiles, too excited to hide it.  
"We're here. Welcome to my home."

* * *

Beca's tired as they get their bags, she hopes for a quiet ride to the hotel and to sleep for ages.  
Luisa doesn't go through baggage claim unnoticed though, many people stop and stare at the blonde woman.  
Beca studies her person.  
As usual, she's immaculate in every way.  
She's beautiful, but it doesn't completely explain the awestruck stares.  
A young girl walks up to the couple, blushing as she gazes up at Luisa in adoration.  
"Pardon me, but are you Kommissar?" She asks in German, Luisa nods with a smile.  
The girl squeals in excitement, babbling on so fast Beca can't catch all of it, much less understand it with only her rudimentary knowledge of German. She can decipher the last bit, if she'd had any free hands she'd have patted herself on the back.  
"I don't have anything for you to sign, but could I- would it be ok to hug you?"  
Luisa barely says yes before the girl squeezes her tightly, running away quickly as her bravery fades.  
"You're a celebrity." Beca comments, smiling even as she struggles with the bags.  
Luisa shrugs and takes them from the tiny Bella, never indicating that they're heavy.  
Beca internally curses her Amazonian warrior of a girlfriend.  
"DSM is very popular, here especially."  
"I forgot I was dating a big star." She teases, Luisa smirks.  
"How could you forget such an important detail?"  
"It must have slipped from my mind when I live with said star and have seen her scream like a child during Oculus."  
"That was _one time_!" Luisa hisses, now Beca is the one to smirk.

* * *

After being asked to sign autographs and take pictures with people all the way to the hotel, and even in the lobby, Beca and Luisa collapse on their bed.  
"Is it like this every time you're in Germany?" Beca asks.  
"Several other countries as well, but yes."  
"Isn't it exhausting, being on all the time?"  
"I am indebted to the fans of DSM, without them I could not continue to make music with my team, so how could I ever complain from the attention?"  
"Just answer the question, you saint."  
Luisa chuckles.  
"We both know that isn't true."  
"And we also know you're avoiding the question."  
"Ja."  
"Ja, it's exhausting? Or ja, you're avoiding the question?"  
"Ja."  
"You're so annoyingly…hot." Beca wiggles closer to her blonde cinnamon bun, throwing a leg over longer ones.  
"That was meant to be an insult." She mutters, she feels Luisa laugh.

* * *

Beca's staring at the Brandenburg Gate, it's more than stunning.  
So much history has passed through the stone, so many tears and personal sorrows and now so much hope.  
It's beautiful, the neoclassical architecture gorgeous, even without the past to enhance its significance.  
Beca only wishes she could appreciate it with Luisa.  
Initially, they'd started the day out as normal tourists, but Luisa had been recognized, and had spent most of the afternoon greeting fans and signing arms or whatever.  
Beca can still see her from where she's standing, but Luisa's surrounded by a small crowd of college students.  
Beca wanders over to them, noticing several of them are very attractive, and _very_ interested in Luisa.  
She can understand the fascination, as Luisa's one of the most interesting and beautiful people she's ever met, but she doesn't like the _ogling_.  
"Your latest album was amazing, I have them all." A handsome guy with bottle green hair is saying.  
A blonde girl, an extremely gorgeous blonde girl is staring at Luisa with bedroom eyes.  
Luisa pretends not to see it, but Beca can practically feel the heat from five feet away.  
She doesn't like it.  
Not one bit.  
"You're like an angel carved from the finest marble." The blonde blurts out suddenly.  
Beca's positively fuming.  
 _She's_ the one who blurts out compliments, not this chic.  
Luisa thanks her gracefully before catching Beca's eyes.  
If looks could kill she'd be dead several times over.  
And Beca's not even looking at her.  
She offers an apology and leaves the group, wrapping an arm around Beca's shoulders as they walk away.  
"Your rage is showing, feisty maus." She says with a chuckle, Beca simply huffs.  
"I'm sorry liebling, the rest of the day will just be us."  
"Don't make promises you can't keep."

* * *

Luisa ends up having up to work for two of the days, Beca's not happy to find out they're publicity stunts, and their second to last day is spent being accosted by fans in the streets of Berlin.  
It's not that Beca's jealous that Luisa's attention is diverted mostly to her fans, well that's not the only thing, but she's worried about her.  
Luisa's not good at recognizing, or at least admitting, when she's tired, and ever since she's been in Germany she's been in her stage presence for most of the time.  
Beca just hopes she can hold get some time to rest before they go home.  
Today they get to visit family, Beca's both excited and nervous.  
Luisa had said Pieter's family was basically her own, and Beca's not exactly great at first impressions.  
For example, the first time she ever met Luisa, she babbled ridiculous things about confused sexuality and flawlessness and kicking asses.  
Also, the first time she ever talked to her boss, she called herself nothing, and he had kept calling her Reggie.  
Not very impressive.  
She just hopes she'll be able to get through this day with minimal scars and embarrassment.

* * *

The first thing Luisa does after entering her mom's house and greeting everyone is to pass out on the couch, leaving Beca to fend for herself.  
When the exhausted woman wakes up, Beca's going to have some strong words and accidental compliments with her.  
Thankfully Luisa's family is very welcoming and friendly.  
Adelaide, Luisa's mother, is the first to hug Beca.  
Beca's surprised to find the graying woman is only a little bit taller than her.  
Pieter's family is large and rowdy and happy, and everyone speaks English.  
Beca feels at home with them, it's nice.  
Pieter's younger siblings play in the living room, Luisa sleeping through their racket, Beca helps Mina and Adelaide with dinner.  
"How did you find Germany?" Adelaide asks.  
"I loved it, it's so beautiful here." She answers truthfully. "I must admit, I hadn't realized DSM was so popular."  
Mina chuckles.  
"Did you get the 'behind the scenes' version of the glamorous life?"  
"It involves a lot more sleeping than I thought." Beca says, the two women laugh with her.  
"It is tiring, being a public face, but I know she loves it." Adelaide says, a fond smile lighting up her kind face.  
"You must be proud of her." Beca says, remembering the way her dad has to tell everyone he meets about his World champion daughter.  
It's embarrassing, but sweet.  
"Very proud. If her father were here now, he'd have told you how he knew she'd be great from the very beginning."  
"Is he not around anymore?" Beca asks, her curiosity overriding any polite notions she might have had before.  
"He battled cancer eight years ago, it was the first fight he ever lost."  
"I'm sorry." Adelaide nods, accepting Beca's sympathy with grace and poise.  
Beca wonders if that's where Luisa gets her elegance.  
"It is." Adelaide says, smiling with amusement.  
Beca blushes when she realizes she'd said that aloud.  
Adelaide leaves the room to set the table, her lilac scented perfume lingers.  
The radio fills the silence in the kitchen, Beca realizes it's a DSM song.  
"They're everywhere." She mutters, the knife she's using to cut tomatoes moves a little faster.  
"It's hard for families too." Mina says.  
"Sorry?"  
"Having our loved ones in the eyes and heart of the public. It's not easy."  
"I'm sure I'll get used to it." Beca says, her knife chopping with more force.  
Mina touches her arm lightly, taking the knife from the frustrated brunette.  
"You will, but at the same time you won't. We watch as our- oh, I'm not sure of the word…we watch as our precious ones give themselves to those who don't know them as well as we do, we see their hard work chewed up and spat out, and it hurts both of us. We want to protect them, shield them from those we don't know or trust, but we can't. Not without stifling who they are."  
Beca nods, the spoken words are a more eloquent version of her jumbled thoughts.  
Mina's warm thumb strokes her cheek, she hadn't realized she'd teared up.  
"I get it. I work in the music business too, and I love it, but at the same time I don't. I don't know." Beca says, her voice cracking.  
She hates herself for it.  
"I do." Mina's gentle voice speaks in volumes, her arms wrapping around the emotionally drained Bella.  
She smells of fennel and her hug is that of a mother's.  
"Luisa's a strong girl, she can take it. So can you."  
Beca laughs as she pulls away, her hands reaching up to wipe away any residue tears.  
"Thanks." She's painfully sincere, Mina winks playfully, it makes her laugh again.

* * *

After a lovely dinner full of laughter and teasing and wonderful food, Beca and Luisa reluctantly return to their hotel room.  
"Hey Luisa?" Beca says once they're in bed, cuddled together.  
"Ja?"  
"I'm sorry for being such a pain this week, I'm really glad I came. Thanks for taking me with you."  
She receives a kiss on the forehead.  
"You're very welcome, kleine maus. I'm sorry we did not get to spend enough time together."  
"Your fans are important."  
"You are more important by far."  
This time it's a kiss to the nose.  
"Sap." Beca says, though her grin is bright enough to light the room.  
"I'm tired. Besides, you love it."  
"Maybe."  
"When we're home, we'll spend a few days in, marathon the movies. Sound good?" Luisa says, yawning.  
"Ja, definitely."  
There's silence.  
"Luisa?" Beca asks again, she doesn't receive an answer.  
She leans up to leave a feather light kiss on a defined cheekbone.  
"Sweet dreams."


	8. Walk 500 Miles

_This was a combination of two different anonymous tumblr users' prompts._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

"Now _this_ is the way to travel." Beca says happily, her arms wrapped around strong shoulders, riding piggy back on her Olympian of a girlfriend.

The sun is shining, a cool breeze tickles her hair, and she's being carried.

For once, she enjoys the hiking part of hiking.

"Do not get used to it, nicht so kleine maus." Luisa mutters, the barest hint of a wheeze is heard as she sucks in a breath.

"Hey, I never claimed to be tiny, you're the one who insists on calling me that." Beca says, completely unapologetic for being carried and not walking herself.

"I can carry the maus the rest of the way, if you cannot." Pieter says, the gesture would be sweet if it wasn't so saturated with smug arrogance in his own strength.

"I'm fine, this is nothing." Luisa says immediately, her eyes narrowing in stubborn determination. "Besides, we're almost there."

"Where exactly are we going?" Beca asks, her hands fixing the blonde's fly away strands, tucking them back behind Luisa's ears.

"Danke. Pieter and I found a cliff that overlooks the lake and-"

"I believe _I_ was the one to find the cliff, you were too busy being the slowest poke of the snails." Pieter cuts in.

"Beca, please be a goat and shove him for me, will you?" Luisa asks pleasantly.

"It's 'be a lamb.'" Beca says, even as she reaches over and tries to shove Pieter.

It doesn't work.

"Nice try maus, but I am too strong." He says, chest out and head thrown back in pride.

Luisa pushes against him, the weight of her and Beca nearly causing him to fall.

Beca squeals, her grip around Luisa's neck tightening to choke worthy status, only minimally loosening her grasp when Luisa taps her arm for air.

"Don't do that to a girl!" Beca hisses, Pieter chuckles.

"Even you two combined cannot topple me, I am invincible."

"You got lucky," Luisa says. "If I was not carrying Beca..."

"You'd still be slower than me?" He grins, jogging ahead of the girls.

"Arsch." Luisa mutters, Beca laughs.

"I _heard_ that." Pieter calls over his shoulder. "Thanks for noticing the booty, it is pretty great today, no?"

"No." Luisa deadpans.

"As the Americans say, rude." Pieter says, Luisa just smirks.

It's quiet for a while.

"Are we almost there?" Beca asks, stretching herself to see the clearing through the trees as it grows nearer.

"Ja, kleine maus. Want to walk now?" Luisa teases, Beca hums in thought.

"Nah, I'm good."

* * *

They reach the overlook, Beca sighs as she drops from Luisa's back.

The lake is still dark and reflecting and so, so blue.

It's smaller from the cliff, and it looks like someone placed a mirror shard in the middle of deep green trees.

"I feel so small and incredibly gigantic up here." Beca says. "And it's like I'm flying."

She looks further over the edge then scrambles back, accidentally backing into Luisa.

"I almost forgot I don't like heights." She says, blushing.

Luisa wraps her arms around her from behind the brunette, Beca leans into the embrace, the blonde's chin resting on top of her head

Pieter sits down to the left of Luisa, their shoulders close enough to touch.

"Ja, it is quite beautiful... So now what? Shall we walk back?"

Beca and Luisa's response is identical and simultaneous.

"No!"

* * *

Time passes.

They have a healthy snack of carrots, which Beca claims is not a legitimate snack because it's basically just roots, and when they're ready they start to walk back.

They're halfway back to the car when Beca starts to really miss her human transportation system.

"This was better when you were carrying me." Beca states, tapping her knuckles on Luisa's defined hip.

"I think you'll live." Luisa says dryly, Beca shrugs.

"Walking is not the most fun thing in the world."

"How lucky for you, as Luisa gives you an abundance of the piggy rides." Pieter comments, Beca glares at the intrusion.

Luisa nods in agreement.

"It's piggy _back_ rides, you elephant. And I wasn't saying I don't get enough of them, I just said I don't enjoy walking."

"I must admit at this moment in time, walking is not my favorite thing either." Luisa says, tired from the first half of the hike.

Without warning, she hops onto Pieter's back. He immediately stops walking, standing still right in the middle of the trail.

"Luisa, no."

"Carry me?" She asks, clinging to him even as he tries to untangle her limbs from his body.

"Absolutely not." He says adamantly.

"Please?" She pleads sweetly.

"You have a girlfriend, go ask her." Luisa scoffs.

"Ask kleine maus? I'd crush her."

"Hey!" Beca protests. "I'm strong."

She's met with heavy skepticism from both the Germans.

"Well I'm stronger than I look." She mutters.

"Pieter, liebling Pieter, the miggida-mac, the brother from the other mother-"

"Flattery and titles from Jump will not help you, Luisa."

She gives up wheedling and tries a different angle.

"Pieter, as your Kommissar, I command you to carry me to the car."

"We're not with DSM, you abuser of power. Now get off."

Luisa sighs, pretending defeat even as she continues to hang onto him.

"Well, I suppose if you're not strong enough to do it..."

"Luisa, we took the same psychology classes, I know what you're trying to do."

" _And_?"

A deep sigh.

"And... It worked. Let's go."

She whoops in victory.

"Oh, Beca," she calls to her girlfriend. "What do you say to dogs pulling sleds again?"

"Mush."

"Ah yes, danke. Pieter, mush!"

"I'm regretting this already." Pieter grumbles.

"Unsinn, this is fun." Luisa says, laughing in childlike excitement.

"I think the maus is falling behind." Pieter says, Luisa swats him for the amusement coloring his voice.

"Beca, hurry up." She says.

"It's- easier- said- than- done." Beca says in between gasps.

Running really isn't her thing.

Pieter's showing off, she's quickly left behind in the trees.

"Yeah, no problem. You guys go on ahead. I'll be there in a little bit."

Her run turns into a stagger, she stops to catch her breath, pinching the stitch in her side.

She can hear Pieter and Luisa laugh and tease each other from the glorious, air conditioned car.

Damned Germans and their damned long legs.


	9. Don't Breathe On Me

_This was a prompted by an anonymous tumblr blogger._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

Don't Breathe On Me

The sun is shining through the high windows of the new DSM studio, reflecting off the mirrored wall and illuminating the Starry Night mural opposite of it.  
Pieter ignores the beautiful scene, choosing to pace instead.  
Luisa, always prompt and punctual and never accepting anything less than perfectly on time Luisa, is late.  
Very late.  
It's cause for worry.  
Pieter can hear the group's gossiping chatter, it does nothing to calm his troubled thoughts.  
He calls her cell phone for the fifth time, hanging up in frustration when he reaches her voicemail.  
The studio door opens and he almost sighs in relief as Luisa walks in.  
"Kommissar, you're-" he's fully prepared to give her a stern reprimand when he notices her appearance.  
Rumpled clothes, messy hair, red eyes and a blotchy nose.  
"You look terrible." He states bluntly.  
"Thank you, Pieter." She says sarcastically, her voice nasally and congested. "Nice to see you too. My weekend was great, thanks for asking. I'm fine, by the way."  
"No you're not. Go away. No one wants to catch your cold." He says, completely ignoring her sass.  
"I don't have a cold." She denies. "I never get sick."  
"Then what would you call this? A freak attack of allergies?"  
"Yes."  
"Luisa, you don't _have_ allergies. Go home, get some rest."  
"Rest is for the losers." She mutters.  
"Then get used to being a loser for a couple days."  
"I'm not sick." She says resolutely, as if saying it aloud will miraculously cure her.  
"Why did the maus even let you out of the house?" Pieter asks, Luisa rolls her bloodshot eyes at the fatherly disapproval in his voice.  
"It's not like the tiny maus could stop me. Besides, she's in L.A. right now."  
"Leaving me with you. Figures."  
"I'm _fine_. And as long as I'm already here, let me work."  
Pieter sighs in defeat.  
"The Kommissar has arrived, time to get started." He says to the DSM members. "Our leader seems to have an extreme case of _allergies_ today, so practice will be light. Also, don't let her breathe on you, apparently this case of allergies is contagious."  
"Very funny, you're hilarious." She says.  
"I know. Now be careful, you sicko, don't strain yourself. And don't get anyone else sick, especially me."  
She coughs right in his face.  
Pieter reels back in horror, an undignified shriek escapes his mouth.  
She chuckles, then genuinely coughs from the action.  
"Now _that_ ," she says between coughs. "Was funny."

* * *

So maybe coming to practice was a bad idea.  
Five minutes in of warming up and already she's gasping for breath.  
They've barely even started their normal conditioning routine but her lungs are burning.  
Somewhere in her muddled thoughts she wonders if someone's set her body on flame.  
It would explain all the sweating.  
A break would be very much appreciated right now.  
Nevertheless, she's here, so she needs to work as hard as everyone else.  
Also to brush away Pieter's concerned gaze.  
She's _fine_.  
Even if she wasn't, she has an image to maintain.  
She's the fierce, tough as nails Kommissar.  
Internally though, she's just Luisa, and every inch of her body is screaming.  
She gets through conditioning, sucking half of her water bottle down instantly during the two-minute break.  
It doesn't last long enough.  
Pieter directs them through the first routine, she must admit she's grateful not to be leading.  
Even though she just drank water, her throat is as dry as every desert combined.  
And things are only getting hotter.  
They're not singing yet, only going through the motions to the blaring speakers on the ceiling, Luisa wonders if she can make it through the song, what's more the entire practice.  
Images are blurring, and the room is starting to spin.  
Her head pounds along with the beat, everything sways around her unsteadily.  
Her foot catches on something, she feels herself falling.  
She tries to catch herself, she feels her ankle twist.  
 _Ouch_.  
Her breath is knocked out of her lungs.  
Muted, as though from a great distance away, she hears her name called out in panic.  
Then the pull on her eyelids is too strong, she closes them.

* * *

She wakes up cradled in strong arms, too large and muscular to be Beca's. She nearly pouts at the realization.  
Her eyes aren't willing to open quite yet, but awareness of her surroundings comes back to her.  
Someone is muttering " _Damn_ you, you stubborn moose." under their breath.  
That would be Pieter.  
She opens her eyes.  
50 eyes stare back at her.  
She risks a glance at the two connected to the arms holding her.  
Pieter doesn't look happy.  
He looks very much _not_ happy.  
She closes her eyes again.  
"I saw that."  
She sighs, letting her eyes open fully.  
"Allergies are a bitch." She says, smiling weakly as those around her laugh.  
Pieter releases a deep sigh in relief.  
"You're an idiot." He says in exasperation.  
"Watch what you say to your Kommissar."  
"Kommissar, you're an idiot, and you're going home." He says, getting up and helping her stand.  
She hisses in pain when she puts weight on her foot, Pieter grabs her waist to steady her.  
"Practice is over, everyone." He says, addressing the singers. "See you tomorrow." He turns to Luisa. " _Not_ you. You're getting rest."  
She says nothing, internally sulking as he helps her limp to the door.  
"Where's your car?" He asks, she points to it, he laughs.  
"Your parking sucks."  
She smacks his shoulder, she's still lightheaded so it doesn't hurt.  
Much.  
Pieter helps her hobble to her car, plucking the keys from her hands as she unlocks the doors.  
She groans when he's closed her door.  
"Still saying you're fine?" He says as he gets in, chuckling at the mortified blush that's starting to spread across her face.  
"Nothing like fainting in front of your crew to make them cower in fear and respect." He says merrily.  
She glares at him, he just smiles cheekily.  
"Now I'm not one to say I told you so-"  
"Then don't." She says, crossing her arms. "Where's the concerned Pieter? I'd like him back, he wasn't such an ass."  
"You don't deserve concerned Pieter." She huffs, breathing a sigh as he pulls into her driveway.  
"And _that_ is how you park a car." He says, giving her a significant look.  
"Just help me to my house." She says, her ankle starting to throb in time with her head.  
"Carry me?" She asks when he opens her car door.  
He sighs but picks her up, careful not to jostle her ankle.  
"Only because you're an invalid."

* * *

It's not until later when Luisa's lounging on the couch, her ankle elevated with an ice pack, a box of tissues nearby, chicken soup on the table beside her, that she starts to feel better.  
Pieter is excellent at taking care of her.  
Whether or not he grumbled the whole time even though she didn't ask for any of those things is another matter entirely.  
She's cuddled up with a blanket and watching some movie about sharks when Pieter sits next to her.  
He sets a mug of hot chocolate next to her soup as he takes a sip of his own.  
"Is this my good hot chocolate mix?" Luisa asks.  
"Indeed."  
"That was expensive."  
"It was my payment."  
"With friends like you, who needs taxes?" She mutters, his smile is mischievous and covered with whipped cream.  
They watch the movie together, laughing at the horrible acting and pointing out the flaws in the plot.  
"Danke," Luisa says as the final credits roll. "Thanks for taking care of me."  
He turns to her, smiling sincerely, patting her blanketed legs.  
"Of course."  
"Want to stay for this movie's sequel?"  
"Stay another two hours for a horrible plot with terrible actors? Of course."  
She laughs and he smiles, then he turns her head back to the screen.  
"You're still sick, don't breathe on me."


	10. The Danger In Baking

_This was prompted to me by a guest fanfiction user, Gryffindor4Life, and an anonymous blogger on tumblr. Thank you all! I hope this is what you had in mind._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

She should really stop taking Luisa to dates near bakeries.  
Really she should.  
The smell of bread and sweets permeates the air, invading all her senses.  
All she can focus on is the call of fresh sourdough and the enticing scent of melted chocolate.  
It's enough to make even the most satiated person beg for a taste.  
"Beca," Luisa says, tapping the daydreaming brunette on the shoulder. "Liebling, you're drooling."  
Beca comes back to the present with a snap, her posture straightening as her cheeks turn a shade of raspberry. She wipes at the corner of her mouth. Sure enough, there's a bit of water.  
How classy.  
"Sorry, what were we talking about?" She asks, grinning sheepishly.  
"Planning our trip to Germany. Remember, kleine maus? You were coming with me to DSM's concert."  
"Oh, right. Sorry. Yeah, let's get planning." Beca claps her hands together once, it's louder than she'd anticipated.  
Luisa's eyebrow quirks in amusement as heads turn. Beca sits on her hands, determined not to embarrass herself in front of her beautiful girlfriend.  
Well, at least not _again_.  
Luisa starts talking about flights and stages and a set list, Beca tries her hardest to focus on the planner in front of her.  
A draft of wind blows in her direction, the scent of sugar and flour overwhelms her nose again.  
She wants a cookie.  
Really badly.  
"Häschen, focus." Luisa says.  
"I'm not a bunny rabbit." Beca grumbles.  
"You're twitching like one."  
"Well you're- you're… I can't think of an insult right now. But consider yourself insulted."  
"Alberne maus." Luisa says, she smiles affectionately, her hand reaching out to pet the girl's pale cheek.  
It's quiet for a little while, Luisa scribbling reminders in her notebook while Beca tries to think of a decent comeback to being called silly.  
There's nothing.  
"Moose!" She exclaims suddenly. "I'll call you moose!"

* * *

Beca's focused on the work in front of her. So focused she doesn't hear Luisa come home.  
If she'd heard the woman come in, she would have tried harder to keep the kitchen clean.  
"What is going on?" Luisa's astonished voice asks.  
Beca swears as she nearly jumps out her skin.  
"Stop doing that, you German ninja!"  
"What are you doing?" Luisa asks, inspecting the white bowl Beca's mixing, ignoring the death glare her maus is giving her.  
"If you must know, I'm making chocolate chip cookies."  
"Why?" Luisa asks, confused. "Do we have people coming over?"  
"No, I just wanted cookies. That bakery made me crave them."  
"I did not know you had a sugar tooth, häschen."  
"It's sweet tooth, and I'm _not_ a bunny rabbit." Beca says with a huff, her arms crossing. Luisa shrugs, a teasing smirk lifting the corner of her lips.  
"But you're so very _jumpy_ , kleine maus."  
"Your nicknames are terrible." Beca says, deliberately turning away from her to check the cookie recipe on her phone.  
Luisa walks behind her, arms on either side of the brunette's body, thoroughly trapping her between Luisa and the counter.  
Beca stubbornly ignores her.  
"And what nickname would you prefer?" Her hot breath dances across Beca's neck, she tries not to give away how affected she is.  
Luisa can feel the rising goosebumps and the shiver zipping down the little Bella's neck, she grins against smooth alabaster skin.  
"I am not quite as skilled as Pieter is at the name games, but I enjoy trying. So you do not appreciate bunny rabbit, silly or tiny mouse… What about püppchen?"  
"Not a little doll." Beca says, reaching behind her to flick a bit of white flour on Luisa's black shirt.  
The blonde German remains unfazed and determined.  
"Diminutiv wüstenrennmaus?"  
" _Definitely_ not a diminutive gerbil." Beca says, too amused to be truly offended.  
She throws more flour at her girlfriend. Luisa hums, her chin resting on Beca's shoulder, her arms letting go of the counter to wrap around Beca's waist.  
She smiles wickedly when she hears the sharp inhale.  
"I forgot how adorably _feisty_ you are." Beca doesn't dignify Luisa with a response, the taller woman lets her work in silence.  
"Vögelchen?" She tries again, Beca thinks about it before shaking her head.  
"I don't wanna be a little bird."  
"Then großer vogel?" Beca gasps in indignation.  
"I am _not_ big bird!" And with that, she scoops a handful of flour from the bag, tossing it behind her, hitting Luisa square in the face.  
The blonde's normally red lips form a white O, flour dusted eyelashes open to reveal shocked blue eyes.  
"Ooh, Luisa, I'm sorry. Please don't do anything rash." Beca babbles, twisting to watch as tanned and well manicured hands start to reach for potential weapons.  
"Look, just put the flour down. It looks good on you! Have I told you how gorgeous you are today? Because you totally are. I've always said white was your color, and- eek!"  
She's interrupted by an egg crushed over her head.  
She didn't know Luisa had even seen those.  
She releases a deep breath as she feels the gooey mess run down her face and back.  
It must have been two eggs, because it's dripping everywhere.  
Luisa looks positively impish.  
She's filled with some mischievous, competitive, _bold_ feeling and she reaches behind her for more flour.  
"Oh, it is _so_ on."

* * *

A long while later, after fighting with flour and stolen kisses and teasing German insults, Beca's craved cookies are finally made and baked.  
And they taste amazing, no thanks to Luisa's snark and extra additions.  
Honestly, who puts in 98% dark chocolate bits in cookies instead of semisweet chips?  
Crazy German ladies who try to never enjoy the beauties of sugar, that's who.  
Not that Luisa had listened to Beca's rant on the glories of calories, she had stubbornly ignored it all, choosing to eat fruits and veggies as Beca had dunked her chocolate chip cookie in milk and eaten it with relish in front of her.  
Beca had seen those electric blue eyes though, and she had seen the hunger.  
Now all she had to do was wait.

* * *

It's deep in the night when Beca wakes with a start. She'd heard a bang and a muffled curse.  
She grins when she sees Luisa's side of the bed is empty.  
Tiptoeing down the stairs on silent feet, Beca tries her best to be stealthy.  
It's hard to be stealthy when the floors are so ridiculously freezing.  
She wishes she'd thought to wear socks.  
When she reaches the kitchen doorway, she can't cover a triumphant laugh.  
For there's Luisa, her ever dignified Kommissar, sitting on the floor and leaning against the open fridge, the half eaten plate of cookies in front of her, a glass of milk held in chocolate covered hands.  
Luisa looks up, startled at the sound of Beca's laughter.  
She relaxes when she sees its just her Bella giggling.  
She blushes, but continues to finish her cookie.  
"It would seem," she says slowly, swallowing the delicious treat with obvious enjoyment. "I also have a case of the sugar tooth."


	11. Dad Jokes And Dentistry

_This was requested by an anonymous user on tumblr._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

So cookies were a huge success.  
Beca feels an odd sense of pride in herself for being able to corrupt even the tiniest bit of Luisa's strict health regime.  
Not that it really affected the German's flawless physique, the woman was practically frozen in perfection, but still.  
Beca is a pioneer, broadening her blonde girlfriend's horizons even further.  
She doesn't know what else she can introduce to her already well-rounded Kommissar, but she can't wait to find out.

* * *

"Try this." Beca says, plopping down on the couch to wave a tootsie pop in front of Luisa's face. Luisa simply brushes it away, never even looking at the candy, too engrossed in her book.  
Beca drops the sucker on the pages.  
"What, kleine maus?" Luisa says, looking up impatiently.  
"I got you a tootsie pop." Beca states, pointing to the blue wrapped sweet.  
"No thank you, I'm reading."  
"Don't you snack when you're reading?"  
"I don't see the point, I won't enjoy food if I'm reading."  
"You're missing out."  
"Only on wasted calories."  
"Trust me, a tootsie pop is never a waste."  
Luisa sighs, picking up the sucker and unwrapping it. She tentatively licks the hard candy.  
Her nose wrinkles in surprise.  
"It's just sugar." She says, Beca laughs.  
"Well yeah."  
"Why would you want flavored sugar?"  
"Because, it's great! Plus there's a tootsie roll in the center."  
Luisa's perplexed look is utterly endearing.  
"So…I just lick it till I reach the center?"  
"Some people bite it, y'know, like the owl from the commercial."  
Luisa shrugs, Beca stands up to get herself a sucker.  
She hears a crack.  
" _Son of a hamster_!"  
She turns around, Luisa is cradling the side of her mouth.  
"What did you do?" She asks as Luisa swears.  
"I bit it, like you said!"  
"You have to suck on it for a while before you bite it, you can't just flat out chomp down!"  
"That's such a waste of time."  
"Well you can't just lick the sucker twice before biting, you can't be like the owl."  
"I never _saw_ that commercial!"  
"How could you _not_ see it?" Luisa's response is a groan, slightly from pain but mostly frustration.  
"Are you ok?" Beca asks, wringing her hands together.  
"What does it look like?" Luisa growls.  
Beca tries to find a way to comfort her, she doesn't know how, so she awkwardly pats Luisa's shoulder.  
"Do you want some ice? We've got some in the freezer, I'll get you some ice. Stay still. Not that it matters, but-"  
"Beca," Luisa says, breathing heavily through her nose as she tries to calm herself. "Please, just shush and call the dentist. I think I cracked a molar."  
"I guess you can't call that tooth sweet anymore." Beca jokes, Luisa's glare could melt steel.  
"Right. I'll go call the dentist now."

* * *

It's quiet in the dentist's office. The magazines quietly display their fishing prowess, the poor bass on a black line gasping for breath. Besides the sound of a secretary's nails clicking on a computer keyboard, it's silent.  
Beca is incredibly bored.  
Luisa's ignoring her, pretending to be fascinated by the painted grape wallpaper.  
"It's great they could schedule you in so quickly." Beca says, desperate to cut the tension. "Usually you'd have to wait a week, not a day."  
Luisa just huffs.  
"It's too bad it's so early in the morning though, we should have gone at two-thirty. Get it? Tooth-hurty?" Beca stares at Luisa hopefully, the blonde doesn't acknowledge the terrible joke. Beca tries again.  
"You know, even though you're probably in pain, you're still _jaw_ -dropping."  
Luisa sighs forcefully.  
"I hope you're not going to be _mouthy_ , I don't think I could handle your _cheek_."  
"Liebling," Luisa says through gritted teeth. "I understand you're trying to make this better, and I appreciate the sentiment, but please, do not speak anymore."  
"Sorry. It's just dentists can be scary."  
Luisa scoffs.  
"I just figured, once this is over, at least you'd know the _drill_."  
Beca's laughing even as Luisa smacks her knee.  
The assistant walks into the waiting room, calling Luisa's name. Beca squeezes her hand in support, she receives one in return before Luisa's hand slips from hers.  
And then she's left alone with the sad wallpaper and faded magazines with nothing to do but wait.  
So she waits.

* * *

She's dozing when Luisa comes out, half of her face frozen, but the rest of her relieved. Beca stretches before sauntering over to her side.  
"Ready to forgive me now?" She asks, standing on tiptoe to kiss Luisa's uninjured cheek. Luisa gives the biggest grin her face will allow, it's still tiny.  
"I suppose so."  
"Good. Because the _tooth_ is, I couldn't bear it if you stayed mad at me."  
Luisa is less than amused, Beca waits for the smack.  
This time it's a poke in the stomach.  
She doesn't care.  
Already she's thinking of new things for Luisa to try.  
Hopefully this time there won't be need for anymore dentists.


	12. Skinny Love

_Written for an anonymous tumblr blogger. I hope this is ok. :3_

 _Enjoy._

* * *

"Look Reggie, your music is good, but lately it's not been _great_." Beca's boss says, his 'never-sugar coating anything' policy ever in practice. "I need, _Residual Heat_ needs spectacular music. In the beginning you gave me spectacular, that's why I took this chance on you, so don't blow it. Give me a new song by Monday but make it better than your last two." He walks away, already halfway through another conversation on his Bluetooth.  
Beca bites her lip, willing the water filling her eyes to evaporate.  
Dax holds out his cloth handkerchief, she shakes her head, wishing anyone else had seen that embarrassing moment. Better yet, that no one had seen that moment.  
But wishing doesn't make reality.  
"He can be mean." Dax says, Beca almost laughs at the understatement.  
"If you want I can lend you some vinyl, it might inspire you." Dax says, his offer sweet if a little faux hipster.  
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll see you next week." Beca says, more than ready to just scream in her car on the way home.  
"See ya, Reggie."

* * *

"And then he totally cut into me. Can you believe it?" Beca asks, her cellphone pressed against her shoulder as she shuts the car door.  
"Man, that sucks Becs. But I know you'll blow him away, right into retirement with your next song." Jessie's soothing voice says, eliciting a smile from the ex-Bella.  
"Thanks. So what are you up to?" She asks, falling onto her couch as she wakes up her laptop.  
"Ah, avoidance of your problems? I'm glad to be distraction. But where's your blonde Kommissar? Why isn't _she_ distracting you?" Beca groans.  
"You know I can't talk to her about this stuff. She's never done anything less than perfect in her life."  
"Except a few months ago at Worlds, you totally kicked her ass!" Beca smirks at that.  
"Well I am the kicker of ass." She says, remembering the first time she was called that.  
Jessie interrupts her stroll through awkward memory lane.  
"Oh hey, I'd love to continue this conversation, but I've gotta get ready for a date."  
"You're dating someone?" Beca asks, she winces at the surprise coloring her voice.  
"I am, and she's a total cutie. I'll tell you about it later. See ya."  
And with that he hangs up.  
Beca releases the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.  
Jessie's getting over her.  
She loves Jessie, as a friend, so that should make her happy.  
Instead it really, really doesn't.

* * *

"Hallo, tiny maus? I'm home." A happy Luisa calls out, bounding into the living room on muscular and excited legs. "I have wonderful news! I- wait, you're crying."  
"I'm not." Beca wipes at her eyes hurriedly, determined not to fall apart in front her.  
"You were. The eyes are red and puffy. What's wrong?"  
"Nothing you'd understand." Beca says bitterly, Luisa frowns.  
"I can try."  
"It was just a bad day at work." Beca says dismissively. Luisa's look is skeptical but also concerned.  
"If that was all, wouldn't you share it with me?"  
"What was it you wanted to tell me?" Beca asks, changing the subject.  
"Oh, ah, DSM has been offered a contract with Residual Heat, we could work together."  
" _No_!" Beca practically shouts. Luisa's expression falls, Beca springs up from the couch.  
"You do not wish to work together?" Luisa asks, Beca's laugh is nearly hysterical.  
"Do I want to us work together, so my perfect girlfriend can watch as I'm berated by my boss and utterly fail at the things that matter to me? Yeah, sounds like a real _treat_." Beca doesn't notice the frown deepening the wrinkle in Luisa's brow, she's too focused on the frustration and panic overwhelming her thoughts.  
"You haven't failed." Luisa says placatingly.  
"Well today I did. My boss basically said I wasn't good enough." Beca mutters the last part, her arms wrapping around herself.  
"Is there anything specific he said to fix?" Luisa asks, her expression changing from sympathetic to analytical. Beca scowls.  
"Just that my music isn't as _spectacular_ as it used to be. And thanks for agreeing with him." Luisa sighs.  
"Of course I don't agree with him, I'm just trying to help."  
"I don't need your help." Beca says hotly. "And I don't need your patronizing tone either. What do you know about originality?"  
Luisa smiles tightly, noticing but choosing to ignore Beca's cut at DSM's strict cover-only policy.  
"Music Composition was one of my majors in college, so I know enough." Beca laughs, it sounds anything but happy.  
"Of course, how could I forget? You've got majors in everything, you're the _perfect_ Kommissar."  
"Why do you use the word perfect like it is a weapon?" Luisa asks coldly, growing tired of the sarcasm and resentment that's been directed at her for the past month.  
"Because you use it as a shield." Beca starts to walk away, Luisa follows her into the kitchen.  
"What is going on with you? You cannot just say things like that and then leave." She says.  
"I've had enough of losing conversations today." Beca says, crossing her arms defensively.  
"This is not a competition."  
"You're right, it's not. Because you always win. Doesn't matter what, you're always three steps ahead of me. I can't catch up."  
"You never had to."  
Beca scoffs.  
"That's a nice thing to say."  
"I'm not saying it to be nice." An edge starts to creep into Luisa's tone, it only spurs Beca on.  
"You are. I see it, that look in your eyes whenever I talk about work or even the Bella's. You _evaluat_ e me, and I've seen the satisfaction you get after you've realized you're still above me."  
"Well, I have always been _above_ you." Luisa's smirk is biting, Beca's eyes darken in anger.  
"You're going to make jokes about my height right now? Unbelievable."  
"What would you rather have me say? 'I am sorry Beca, let me slow myself down so I can soothe your ego?'"  
The frost in Luisa's eyes is chilling, rage burns in the brunette's chest.  
Any logical response she'd had melts, the filter disappears and molten words burn her tongue as they fly from her lips.  
"I was right when I told Jessie I can't talk to you about this stuff. You're worse than useless."  
Luisa can't disguise the immediate surprise, but any other emotion is quickly shut down and shoved down, her face an impassive mask.  
Beca knows that look, it doesn't bode well.  
"You talk to Jessie before me?" Luisa's voice is quiet and soft, as gentle and lethal as poison.  
"Well…yeah. I do." Beca's voice falters.  
The hurt in Luisa's face, it's restrained and lasts less than a second but _oh_ , it lasts an eternity in Beca's eyes.  
The memory will haunt her, Beca's sure of it.  
Because now she's seen ice bleed.  
There's no bandage, no fix for that.  
"It would seem we've both lost, kleine maus. Abschied."  
And then she's gone, taking only her keys and her phone.  
Beca lets her leave, frozen in horror.  
The door closes behind her with the quietest of clicks, anticlimactic to the fire and ice that had moments ago raged.  
Beca stays in the kitchen as hours pass.  
She doesn't know if Luisa's ever coming back.  
The thought kills.  
She's frozen in the ghost of a relationship.  
Then that too is gone, and she is alone.

* * *

She's speeding down a dark road, tears slipping down her cheeks.  
Damned water.  
Chloe's in her ear, her normally bright and bubbly voice somber, sympathetic as she listens through the phone.  
Beca hadn't thought it would help, talking about the fight only hours after it'd happened, but it's three in the morning and she can't handle the silence in her suddenly too big house.  
She wishes she could feel that empty.  
Instead she's filled to the brim with unwanted emotions, choking on the overflow.  
So she's going to swallow it down with vodka and ice cream.  
She sort of wishes it were raining.  
The stars are too brilliant, too happy.  
Mocking her with their undulating bliss.

 _"You think we'll last?" Beca asks sleepily, staring up at the stars in contentment, her hand securely intertwined with Luisa's._  
 _She's not looking at her new girlfriend, it's safer to look at the future when also looking at the faraway forever._  
 _But she can still feel Luisa smile._  
 _Her answer is slow and confident, staining the words into Beca's chest like an invisible tattoo._  
 _"Ja, definitely."_

A car horn beeps frantically, Beca snaps back to the present.  
With a truck heading her way.  
She swerves.  
Suddenly, she's surrounded by white.  
A white airbag in her face, white haze around that, and a white noise in her head.  
Somewhere in the distance, she can hear a voice calling her name.  
It sounds like Chloe.  
Her vision blurs, the static in her ears intensifies.  
White fades into black.  
She thinks of Luisa.  
Then nothing.

* * *

She wakes in a hospital bed, an annoying beep emanating from a machine next to her.  
She feels warm and floaty, there's a hand holding hers.  
She wonders if it's Luisa.  
When her eyes open, she sees it's Chloe.  
She's both disappointed and relieved.  
"Hey." She croaks, her throat parched and sore.  
"Hi." Chloe helps her sit up and hands her a cup, Beca stares at it a tad warily. "Don't worry, it's just water. No vodka and ice cream until you get home." Chloe says with a wink.  
Beca smiles.  
Then winces once the pain hits her.  
"What happened?" She asks, the memories of the accident a bit foggy.  
"You ran into a tree to avoid hitting a truck. You're alive, but you're going to have to deal with a broken wrist, broken rib, and some cuts and bruises before you start feeling ok."  
"How long does it take for a heart?" Beca asks, only half kidding.  
The sympathy in Chloe's eyes is too much. She looks away.  
"I was just joking," Beca mutters. "I don't have a heart anyway."  
"You should get some rest." Chloe says, Beca shrugs.  
It hurts.  
She sucks in a deep breath from the pain.  
That hurts too.  
Stupid ribs.  
Stupid car.  
Stupid _everything_.  
"Can we talk?" Beca asks hesitantly.  
Chloe smiles, soft and sweet and ever willing.  
"Yeah. Let's talk."

* * *

Beca's dozing when Chloe leaves, though she wakes when she hears 'Get out of my way!' spoken in German.  
Luisa's here.  
Beca immediately pretends to sleep.  
She can't handle a confrontation with her.  
It's too soon.  
She hears the click of heeled boots as they enter her room.  
Willing her body to relax, she waits.  
"Beca!" Luisa's voice gasps.  
Beca feels cool hands smooth her hair, light fingertips lingering on her cheeks, before her uninjured hand is enveloped by two shaking ones.  
"Oh liebe, mein schatz." Trembling lips moan against her skin.  
Beca doesn't move.  
"I am sorry, kleine maus. I hurt you, and I am so sorry. You do not have to forgive me, as I have not forgiven myself either." Luisa whispers her words into Beca's open palm.  
The words are raw and oh so _real_ , Beca drinks them in.  
"But you were wrong."  
Internally, Beca starts to roll her eyes.  
"You were wrong in thinking I held myself above you."  
At that Beca's thoughts freeze.  
"I play at perfection, but to keep up such a facade one must let themselves stagnate. So that is what I have done. But darling you- you have so much _potential_. So brilliant, and yet you still have managed to change, to grow into something better. It is, well, it is nothing short of awe inspiring."  
Luisa pauses to press the gentlest of butterfly kisses on Beca's wrist. Beca's pulse skyrockets and she barely manages to suppress the hitch in her breath.  
"I evaluate you, yes. But it is not to keep score, and it is not simply satisfaction. It is pride. And I should have told you this sooner. I am proud of you, and proud that I call you mine… _Called_ you mine."  
Luisa chokes, then mutters to herself in German.  
She sits up from her chair, her shoes clicking again as she moves towards the door.  
"Wait!" Beca says, completely dropping her sleeping act. The sudden motion of sitting up jostles her rib and she grits her teeth at the flash of pain.  
"Don't go." She manages to say.  
In two strides Luisa is back by her side.  
Beca reaches out for her, cupping her cheek as their lips meet.  
It hurts, not just her ribs, but she can't stop.  
She doesn't want to.  
She wants to drown in Luisa's touch, in her smell, her touch.  
She wants to grab onto the blonde woman and never let go.  
Instead, she memorizes the way Luisa tastes and vows to never let herself forget.  
"I'm sorry too." She murmurs as Luisa pulls back to let her breathe.  
"I shouldn't have kept Jessie as my emotional boyfriend."  
"It would be easy to do. He is so compassionate, and I am…not. It would seem emotions are not my strong suit."  
Beca's thumb brushes against the curve of Luisa's cheekbone.  
"I'm not good at them either. I know I have a lot to apologize for too."  
"Perhaps after your ribs have healed." Luisa says, the eternal blue of her eyes storming with worry and relief and something Beca can't quite place.  
"Ok." Beca grins tentatively, Luisa smiles back.  
"Can we try again?" Beca asks, suddenly shy as she looks down to the sheets covering her legs.  
Luisa's hand falls from Beca's face to grasp her good hand.  
Her answer is wanting, hopeful, and resolute.  
This time, Beca looks at her when she says it, and she means every word with all her soul.  
"Ja. Definitely."


	13. My My My

_This is a combination of an anonymous tumblr blogger's prompt and the request of blogger feistykleinemaus._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

Months have passed since the fight, things are better.  
Broken bones and hearts have healed, the cracks inlaid with a fragile sort of gold.  
No one has stormed out, or rather, walked out quietly, and disagreements have been talked through without frustration festering.  
It's new, Beca's unused to it.  
It's hard for her to open herself up to Luisa and vice versa, but it's getting easier every time.  
She's not sure if it will last the way it is, she hopes so.

* * *

She wakes up to an odd morning.  
Usually her sleepy eyes are greeted by a beauty in blonde, this morning she opens her eyes to see…nothing.  
Luisa's side of the bed is empty.  
Beca grumbles as she walks down the stairs, something about German ladies and their early schedules.  
She expects to see her girl in business suit slacks, reading the news on her iPad, coffee in one hand and a spoonful of lightly sweetened oatmeal in the other, like every weekday morning.  
Instead, she walks into a completely unexpected scene.  
Luisa is lounging on the couch, still donning pajamas, staring blankly at the droning TV, and slowly munching on Beca's Peanut Butter Crunch.  
"Hey Luisa," Beca says hesitantly, Luisa barely acknowledges her. "Whatcha doing?"  
"I believe I am watching the Tom and the Jerry."  
"Why?"  
Beca's question is left unanswered. She gingerly sits next to Luisa, the singer's body is stiff and unresponsive next to hers.  
"Are you ok?" Beca asks, starting to get worried. Luisa shakes her head once.  
Beca brushes golden strands of hair back, her fingers light against the sun kissed brow. Luisa slowly relaxes at the gentle caress, her body melting into the side of the brunette's slight frame.  
"Wanna talk about it?" She asks, Luisa shakes her head again.  
So they don't talk.  
They cuddle, their legs twining together as they lie on the couch. Tom and Jerry plays on, and they rest.

* * *

Hours pass, and Beca's finally gotten bored. She'd dozed for the first couple of hours, her body still in college student "sleep anywhere, anytime" mode, but now her mind is tired of simply wandering.  
She uses the drifting time to study her girlfriend. A baggy t-shirt and leggings hide toned muscles. Perfectly sculpted collarbones tempt Beca but she moves on. The graceful neck is tickled by feathery soft tresses, she can't resist carding her fingers through them. Luisa doesn't notice, or pretends not to, so Beca lets her fingers wander further.  
Trailing fingers ghost over smooth cheeks, running lightly over the residue mascara smudged under closed ocean eyes, gliding over immaculate eyebrows.  
"That tickles." Luisa murmurs.  
Beca hums, pressing a butterfly kiss against the corner of cereal dusted lips.  
"Wanna do something fun?" Beca asks. She's loathe to ruin the day's tranquility, but her muscles are dying for a stretch and her mind is itching to do more than daydream.  
"Not really." Luisa replies, taking in and releasing a deep breath.  
Beca feels the motion as Luisa unwittingly presses her body further into Beca's. The brunette's eyes travel south, watching as Luisa stretches slightly, her t-shirt lifting to show a slip of bronzed skin.  
Beca bites her lip as her face flushes, her wandering hands resume their traveling, this time downwards.  
Luisa's stomach is warm and soft, it cringes away from the sensation of cold palms.  
"What are you doing?" Luisa gasps in surprise, Beca grins sheepishly.  
"Nothing." She says innocently, though her eyes say anything but.  
"Not today, Beca."  
Beca pouts in disappointment, half from being turned down and half from the loss of nickname.  
Luisa never misses an opportunity to comment on the Bella's diminutive height, the difference causes worry.  
"Why not?" Beca asks, veering away from the question she really wants to ask.  
"I'm not in the mood. I am not just a sex kitten you know." Luisa's tone is starting to bite, Beca backs off.  
"I know, sorry."  
Luisa sighs, her eyes clouding with some emotion Beca still can't figure out.  
Her Kommissar can be so mysterious sometimes.  
Most of the time that's alluring.  
Right now it's sort of exasperating.  
"I apologize, kleine maus." Luisa sits up, climbing over Beca to get off the couch, Beca misses the heat. She sits up as well, watching Luisa walk away.  
She comes back a moment later, dressed in jeans and a weathered red shirt, holding her keys and phone.  
"Are you going somewhere?" Beca asks, confused. Luisa leans over to peck her on the lips.  
"I am sorry, maus. I will talk about this tomorrow, but right now I need to be alone."  
Her keys jangle as she walks out the door. It closes with a swish and click.  
Beca is filled with questions and frustration, she's not exactly good with comfort and cryptic sadness is a mystery to her.  
With heavy reluctance, she calls the person who knows Luisa best.  
"Hey Pieter, I need your help."

* * *

She barely has time to dress before Pieter knocks on her door.  
"Hello maus." Pieter says as he walks past her into her house, Beca struggles not to stick her tongue out at him.  
"That nickname is reserved for Luisa's use only." She says, he holds his hands up in surrender.  
They say nothing, standing awkwardly in Beca's kitchen. She groans internally, this day has been super weird and somehow she's tired, she's really not in the mood to play hostess.  
"You need some tea." Pieter says, walking over to the stove, turning it on as he rummages through the cupboards for teabags.  
"Sure, help yourself to tea. Thanks for asking." Beca mutters sarcastically, sitting on a stool next to the counter. Pieter shakes his head, plopping an earl gray in Beca's favorite mug.  
"This is for you, I do not need it." He reaches down in the pots and pans cupboard, finding the secret cookie stash and placing a few on a plate in front of the Bella.  
"How did you-" he winks, she scowls.  
"I'm finding a new hiding spot." She mutters, Pieter smiles cockily.  
"Very well, I will just find it again."  
"Can you just tell me why Luisa's so moody?" Beca asks.  
"Tea first."  
He hands the now steaming mug to her, she cradles it in her icy hands.  
She takes a sip.  
It's good. Not coffee, her preferred drink, but good.  
"Why aren't you more worried about Luisa?" Beca asks, taking another sip. Pieter shrugs.  
"She does this every year."  
"Why?"  
"Today is the anniversary of her father's death."  
"Oh." The tea loses its comfort, Beca feels guilty.  
"So what does she do when she goes out?" Pieter shrugs again as he steals a cookie off of Beca's plate, ignoring the glare he receives afterward.  
"Sometimes she gets really drunk, sometimes she works out till she collapses in exhaustion, sometimes she does nothing at all."  
It's quiet as Beca absorbs the new information. Things start to make sense, but the feeling of helplessness stays.  
"So…what do we do now?" She asks. Pieter swipes another cookie from Beca, she smacks his hand. He still succeeds in taking it.  
"We wait. I will wait in the living room and watch American Idol while making the commentary of gold. If you bring the cookies, you may join me."  
Beca huffs at that, crossing her arms in indignation.  
She resolves to stay in the kitchen.  
"Maus, are you coming?" Pieter calls from the living room. Beca ignores him, internally seething at his using the nickname again. Five minutes pass.  
"You should really watch this, the opera lady is hilariously bad."  
Beca doesn't respond to his bait.  
"Beca, please join me. This is boring by myself."  
Nothing.  
Finally-  
"If you do not watch this me, I'll start singing. Very loudly."  
Beca's in the living room in less than 1.6 seconds.

* * *

Hours pass before Beca's phone rings. She accepts the call with relief.  
"Luisa! I was so worried-"  
"Sorry, no. This is Sam." A deep voice that is definitely not Luisa's replies.  
"Oh. Where is Luisa?" Beca asks, panic starting to rise in her throat.  
"Is she a tall blonde woman?"  
Beca nods before remembering she's on the phone.  
"Uh, yeah. Is she ok?"  
"She's fine, she just needs to be picked up."  
Beca gets directions from the bartender before hanging up. Pieter studies Beca's expression with curiosity.  
"It's not that late, why did they call us now?"  
"Because," He discovers Beca's expression is that of contained amusement. "Apparently it's against the rules to dance on tabletops."

* * *

They take Pieter's car, Beca regrets it. She likes the look of windswept hair, but hers looks like its hosted a hurricane.  
Unflattering, to say the least.  
Luisa's not dancing when they walk into the bar, she's giggling in a chair, flirting with a dark haired man. Beca would be jealous if she didn't know Luisa was plastered out of her mind.  
Although, the guy is pretty good looking.  
And Luisa's laughing pretty hard.  
Ok, she's maybe just the teensiest bit jealous.  
"Hey Luisa." Beca says calmly, trying not to startle the German woman.  
Luisa turns at the sound, her smile is positively luminous as she beams at her and Pieter.  
"Miny taus! Er, tiny maus! Pieter! Hallo, this is my new best friend, Sam!"  
Beca can't help the sigh of relief when she realizes the attractive guy is the bartender. He gives a friendly wave, handing Luisa's phone and keys to Pieter.  
"Ok Luisa, time to go home." Pieter says.  
She pouts.  
Luisa, the tough and scary Kommissar, pouts.  
"But I do not want to leave all of my new friends." She sweeps her arm dramatically, showing the vast amount of new friends she's made.  
There are only four other people in the building.  
"You'll see them later, right now it's time to go home." Beca says. Luisa just crosses her arms childishly.  
Beca gives Pieter an imploring look.  
"I've got this." He says, patting her shoulder in reassurance.  
With one smooth motion, Luisa is picked up and gently flung over his shoulder.  
She flops a little but giggles too much to really put up a fight.  
He hands Beca Luisa's car keys as he walks past her.  
"I saw her car in the parking lot, she's two from the left of mine. See you at home."

* * *

Luisa's already tucked into bed when Beca gets back.  
"Thank you, Pieter." Beca says. He nods.  
"There's an aspirin and a glass of water on Luisa's little table. Make sure she doesn't knock it over, I have the feeling she will need it tomorrow."  
"Got it. Thanks." Pieter pats Beca's head lightly before leaving. She huffs as she fixes her hair.  
Luisa is still awake when Beca climbs into bed, though her energy has dropped significantly.  
"How are you, crazy pants?" She asks, Luisa looks baffled.  
"Why would pants be crazy?" Beca pauses at that.  
"I…don't know."  
"Are they crazy as in they are out of fashion, or are they crazy as in insane?"  
"I'm guessing the first one."  
Luisa pouts, the action nearly killing Beca with cuteness.  
"My pants are not out of fashion, I bought them last year."  
She pulls the sheets up to admire her jeans, then she giggles.  
"Oh, I forgot. I am not wearing pants."  
"What?" Beca nearly screeches.  
"It was hot under the sheets." Luisa says with a shrug, her giddiness disappearing as fast as it had appeared. Beca sighs in relief, grateful that Pieter had not seen her girlfriend half naked.  
Beca gulps as the thought strikes her, she wills it away.  
She falls backwards, the air pushing out of her lungs as she hits the mattress. She sighs in comfortable exhaustion.  
"Beca," Luisa says, her voice dropping as she starts to sober.  
"Yeah?"  
"Sorry about tonight."  
"S'ok. Just talk to me about this stuff. Sharing has to go both ways."  
"I know."  
The pull of sleep strengthens, Beca feels herself slowly slip closer to unconsciousness.  
"You know," she says absentmindedly. "Pieter isn't so bad. He's a really good friend." Luisa hums in agreement.  
"And a really good kisser."  
 _"What?!"_


	14. Hot Mess

_Prompted by tumblr blogger sherylin. Sorry for the slow updates._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

"So tell me again," Beca says. "Why do you have an apartment in Germany? You haven't lived here for a year."  
She wipes her brow as she unpacks her black suitcase, she can't help but check the room out again for the fifth time.  
High vaulted ceilings, black beams stark against the white walls, minimalist furniture, light wood floors, floor length windows everywhere, showing just how high up the apartment is above the city.  
It's the kind of place you see in magazines that makes you think luxurious living is the only way to go.  
Since Beca's met Luisa, she's starting to agree. She could easily get used to being spoiled.  
"Have I not told you, maus? I have had this apartment for years, and even after moving to America, I could not bring myself to sell it. It is prime real estate. Perhaps I shall rent it out. But perhaps not, as I do love the view. I am not so sure that I am willing to share this with strangers."  
"Either way, I like it." Beca says, her arms stretching as hangs up one last shirt.  
Sweat drips down the arched curve of her back, the droplet lazily making its way along agitated skin, slowly driving Beca crazy.  
"Can I ask you something else?" Beca asks.  
"It's may I." Luisa corrects, picking up the suitcase to shove it in the closet.  
"Whatever, you grammar nazi." Beca teases.  
Luisa stiffens slightly, Beca internally screeches at her own blunder.  
"Sorry. Wrong choice of words." She mutters, her cheeks burning with mortification. Luisa turns to her with a chuckle, pecking her on the forehead affectionately.  
"Alberne maus, it is fine. Ask your question."  
"Why is it so hot?" Luisa laughs, Beca smiles in reaction, even as her shirt starts to stick to her skin.  
It's actually quite unpleasant.  
"Unfortunately, we seem to have caught Germany in the middle of a heat wave. Usually the temperature is much more bearable." Beca groans, Luisa pats her cheek in apology.  
Beca leans into her hand, sighing happily as cold skin cools the heat emanating from her tomato cheeks.  
"What are you doing?" Luisa asks, amused.  
"Enjoying the icicles you call fingers. They're cooling me down."  
A second hand reaches up and caresses Beca's forehead.  
It's blissful.  
"That's the stuff." She encourages, nearly moaning in relief.  
"How have you stayed so chill?" She asks once some of heat evaporates. Luisa shrugs, a self mocking grin pulling at the corners of her lips like strings.  
"I suppose it is my cold heart, freezing everything around me."  
Beca kisses the warming fingers, all across the soft and smooth palm, and up along the pulse beating in the delicate wrist.  
"I don't believe that for one second." Conviction lights in her eyes, honesty making her heart dance a samba.  
Happiness like a drug seeps into her skin, thrumming in her veins, identical to the happiness that shines in Luisa.  
"I know another way to cool you down." Luisa says huskily, the sound pulling Beca closer.  
"And what's that?" She asks, her eyes trained on pink lips.  
They loom ever closer.  
An inch away.  
A few centimeters.  
One centimeter.  
"Take a cold shower." Luisa says, the motion of her lips hovering over Beca's, tickling the sensitive skin.  
Beca's lips pucker for a kiss.  
She receives nothing but air.  
"Hey!" She calls to Luisa's retreating back.  
All she hears is a mischievous chuckle.  
The sound sends a welcome shiver down her spine.  
She follows after the blonde woman, down the stairs, through the hallway, past the white square couch in the living room, into the kitchen.  
"Luisa?" The tall German is nowhere in sight.  
She had just been there a second ago.  
Hadn't she?  
Beca's thoughts are interrupted by an ice cube tossed down the back of her shirt.  
She never knew she could both gasp and squeal simultaneously till now.  
She tries to grab the slippery thing, it falls into her pants.  
"You!" She yelps, a finger shaking accusatorially at her culprit.  
"What?" Luisa asks innocently. "You asked to be cooled down."  
Beca smiles sweet like saccharine, her hand reaching behind her, blindly grasping around until she finds what she's looking for.  
"Thank you, sweetheart. I just want you to know-"  
She sprays Luisa with the kitchen sink nozzle.  
The shriek is worth the war she knows is coming.  
"It's on."


	15. Personal Space

_Prompted by tumblr blogger halfawake._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

It's rush hour in the subway station of New York City, people are shoulder to shoulder as they hurry home or to dinner. The hum of their chatter is no quieter than a dull roar, heat rises in tight train chambers as bodies clutter together.  
"We should have taken a taxi." Beca grumbles. She huffs as she's jostled for the fifth time.  
"Ah, but mein schatz, you do not get the cultural experience from a taxi." Luisa says from behind her, her breath warming Beca's ear. A man's hacking cough irritates her on the other.  
"You don't get sick from airborne diseases in a taxi either." She says, rubbing her ear off on her shoulder.  
Luisa shrugs.  
"I do not get sick."  
"Pieter would beg to differ." Beca says, a smirk spreading across her features as she remembers Pieter's long regalement of Luisa's cold.  
Luisa scoffs, though the lightest shade of pink tinges her cheeks.  
"Pieter never begs, and he over exaggerates." Beca snickers, Luisa looks down. She smirks when she sees an interesting picture.  
"Kleine maus, I do not wish to alarm you, but your hand is currently attached to someone's rear." Beca looks down.  
It's true.  
In the crowded train, she hadn't realized the back of her hand's thoroughly pressed into a lady's backside.  
She pulls the offending hand to herself with a quick snap. It's too fast, and it catches the woman's attention. Green eyes stare at Beca curiously, she blushes, mouthing sorry. The head turns back.  
"You touched the butt." Luisa teases.  
"What?" Beca asks.  
"Finding Nemo quote."  
"You've seen Finding Nemo?" The pink cheeks darken further.  
"It was the only film playing on a late night flight. I could not sleep."  
"Of course you couldn't, otherwise you'd have missed an animated movie about fish…you nerd." Luisa ignores the jibe, checking her watch before frowning.  
"I hope we are not late, I do not want to miss the beginning of the show."  
"What are we seeing again?" Beca asks.  
"Chicago."  
"I didn't know you were a Broadway nerd too." She says with a teasing chuckle, Luisa just smiles.  
"I do love musicals, live theatre gives me such a rush. I was in a German production of the musical we're seeing tonight."  
"Really?" Beca perks up, suddenly enthused. "Who did you play?"  
"Roxie Hart."  
"Cool." Beca nods, her head bobbing for too long a time.  
"You have no idea who that is." Luisa guesses.  
"Not a clue."  
"Well once we are there, I shall give you the clue. I want you to enjoy this."  
"I'd enjoy it more if we'd taken a taxi." Beca mutters. Luisa leans closer.  
"You are touching the butt again. This is the fourth time now."  
Beca's hand jerks back again, the green eyes merely glance this time. Luisa is more than amused.  
"Why didn't you tell me the two other times?!" Beca hisses.  
"Because we were in the middle of a conversation, it is rude to interrupt."  
"It's ruder to let me accidentally turn into a perv!"  
"Perhaps, but the nice woman did not seem to mind." Luisa winks at that. If Beca could melt from burning humiliation, she'd already be a puddle on the sticky subway floor.  
"Keep your voice down, she could be listening." Beca whisper shouts, Luisa shrugs a shoulder.  
"She's listening to music, it's pretty good."  
Beca pauses.  
The woman's chestnut hair is shoulder length, but Beca can see the earbuds. She realizes the music she'd been hearing this whole ride wasn't actually the subway's overhead speakers, but the woman's phone playlist.  
"You should ask her for a number." Luisa suggests.  
"That's not- I'm not- you're enjoying this way too much." Beca stutters, her poor mind too flustered and embarrassed to commit to a clever reply.  
"You should- ah how do they say, oh yes- you really should buy the lady a drink first before feeling her all the way up."  
"It's 'feel her up'- and I'm not doing that!" Beca's voice rises in agitation, Luisa shushes her before heads turn.  
"Apologies, maus. I forgot how feisty you can be. But in all the seriousness," Luisa says in a tone that's anything but. "Should I be jealous?"  
Beca swats her arm, Luisa merely laughs.  
"I can't believe my girlfriend is my wingman." Beca mumbles.  
"Well I want you to know all the options, just in case you ever bore of me." Luisa's tone is flippant and playful, but Beca can hear the barest hint of worry.  
It pierce Beca's heart but she keeps her voice light, knowing that Luisa hates showing vulnerability and wants anything but pity.  
"I'm afraid you're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time. I hope you don't mind."  
Luisa smiles, it's unexpectedly warm and slow and soft. A sunrise of happiness, affection, and white teeth.  
"Kleine maus, I do not mind at all."  
Beca wants to kiss her.  
The train stops.  
"We're here, let's go." Luisa says, excitement lifting her voice, Beca nods with enthusiasm.  
Bodies pile out, she breathes out in relief as she's no longer crammed into other people.  
"Let's go see Chicago." She says. Luisa grins.  
"And maybe on the way back you'll find another butt to touch."  
Luisa walks forward, and Beca finally finds the perfect response.  
She pinches the butt.  
"Hey!" Luisa yelps, barely suppressing a screech.  
Beca is now the one to wink, flirtatious confidence in her smile.  
"Found one."


End file.
